Our Darkest Hours
by Willful Redhead
Summary: Futurefic The Brotherhood bands together during some difficult days.
1. Prologue: Adam

_Author's Note:_

_I've been working on this particular piece of futurefic for quite awhile now. I can't really decide how I feel about it. If you've read Legacy this is in the same timeline. I feel pretty guilty for treating poor sweet Hannah this way, but then again, statistically speaking, it isn't beyond the realm of possibility. I also thought it was interesting from a story standpoint. If you've already suffered great loss, how do you manage the possibility of more loss? I think it is also interesting to consider what kind of parents the brothers would be - not just the oldest who've already been parenting for years, but the younger ones who were raised by their brothers._

_I appreciate that this particular future might not fill everyone's hearts with joy, but the story sort of wrote itself, and although I was unsure about posting it, I decided to go ahead and put it up for readers to judge for themselves. Please accept my humble apologies if you find it in anyway too dark, or too far from the cannon. I worked hard to include all the essential elements of our boys - love, loyalty and occasional mischievousness._

_I so appreciate your reviews._

_This is dedicated to all those fighting and those who love them. No one fights alone._

Our Darkest Hours

Prologue

1982

I sit in the jeep as it idles. Behind me is the ranch and my brothers, ahead of me, Murphys and her. I know what I'm about to do. Well, sort of. I just know I want to be with her; every single day forever. Seven days with cows gives a man time to think, and I've spent just about every waking hour thinking about her.

This will change things. And maybe I should talk to them first, or at least explain things to her. I dunno though. My brothers aren't big on change - especially Brian. He's still reeling from our changing to a different feed company. I can't imagine what this will do to him. And my experience has been that explaining the reality of our lives at the ranch leads to me watching the back of someone walking away. I couldn't bear it this time. I'm in too deep.

I rev the engine in the jeep, I don't really care too much about them when I'm with her. I just can't stand to be away from her, which is ridiculous because two months ago, I'd never even seen her. I spent the entire round up in a daze wandering around like I was missing my arm.

"What's the matter with you?" Brian asked.

"Nothing. What?" I asked.

"Brother, you are out of it! You told Daniel he could go ahead and have another beer."

"I don't remember that." I say.

"Daniel does. Go tell him you weren't thinking when you answered. I'm tired of fighting with him."

I start to make my way over to tell him, but instead wander away from camp seeing a field of wildflowers thinking how nice it would be to bring them to her. _Get a grip!_ I tell myself, but I can't. All I can think about is heading to town and seeing her smile.

I lean on the steering wheel and think suddenly _What am I doing sitting here?_ She's twenty minutes away from me. In twenty minutes, I can be looking in her beautiful dark eyes. In twenty minutes, I can be kissing her soft lips. In twenty minutes I can have my arms around her. I shift into first and gun the engine, and drive like a rocket straight to town. I have a gold ring in my pocket - two actually; one for me and for her. I don't care about my brothers right now. I don't care about my father's ranch. I only care about this one thing.

Will she say yes?


	2. Crane

1996

Adam looks ridiculously out of place under the bright glare of the Starbucks' Cafe. I wish I had a camera; all of my brothers would get a kick out of seeing him here. He approaches the counter after the woman ahead of us says, "I'll have a grande double-shot espresso, and a venti non-fat half cafe white mocha."

I watch Adam and wait for his reaction, but he says nothing; a testament to his dark mood. As the barista asks him what he would like to drink, I wait, anticipating a great moment of entertainment, but am shocked as my brother calmly orders.

"I'll take a tall Americano." He says easily.

My oldest brother, Adam, never ceases to amaze me. We grab our drinks and even though the November wind blows cold, we sit outside. Adam is not a man for being indoors, if he can help it.

"Thanks for tagging along, Crane." He says to me sipping his coffee.

"When have you ever been to Starbucks?" I ask him.

"Oh, lots of appointments in the city these days." He rubs his face, sighing. "I guess we ought to gather up the Brotherhood."

"Yeah," I agree setting my coffee down, my stomach churning. "Are you gonna talk to Guthrie first?"

He lets out a long sigh, and looks as though I've punched him. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Yeah." I agree. "What about the kids?"

"She wants to talk to them tonight, but I wanna wait 'til after the Brotherhood." He rises and stands with his hands in his pockets. "I'm gonna take a walk. I'll meet you back there." He turns to go. "You call 'em for me Crane. Guthrie's in town for that conference, so it just depends on Daniel's schedule. But just the Brotherhood, okay? I can't bear any cryin' women just now. I'm not strong enough." I watch him as he strides away, his long legs moving him through the crowded city streets until his white hat is a dot in the far distance.

***7***

"Where's Adam?" Hannah asks as I step into the small room.

"Took a walk and said he'd meet me here." She looks up at me with her beautiful dark eyes.

"He's okay?" She asks.

"No." I answer without thinking, but seeing her worried eyes. "Of course he isn't, Hannah, but don't worry. I'll keep my eye on him."

"Yeah." She says reaching up and squeezing my arm. "Of course you will. I just was hoping we could head back soon. We might be able to catch the school bus."

"Izzy's got 'em." I remind her and she nods and gathers her coat and bag. We are just about to step out of the room when Adam steps in.

"Sorry Darlin'." He says seeing her stormy eyes, and kissing her cheek. "I got turned around."

She smiles at him and reaches out with gentle fingers rubbing his cheek. "Rancher Man lost in the big city." She laughs and he shrugs.

The ride home is long and Hannah falls asleep, her head resting against Adam who sits silently one arm around her protectively. I am driving and he sits in the passenger seat with Hannah between us. He stares out the window into the grey afternoon.

"You researched it, didn't you?" He asks piercingly. "What do you think?"

"The statistics are . . ." I realize numbers can't summarize my sister. "We're gonna have to fight our way through this one, Adam. There are some rough days ahead. But we're talking about Hannah. You know anyone on this whole earth stronger?"

"No!" He says without hesitation. He exhales slowly. "I wish it were me. Why couldn't it be me?" He glances down at her with such love and tenderness, I feel that I can't even breathe. "Not her . . . she's. . ." My vision blurs with tears.

"She's gonna be okay, Adam. She has to be."

"I have an end to me." He says softly. "There's things I can't endure. Well, just this one thing really, I guess." The only sound is the rumble of the old truck, as Hannah sighs in her sleep. "The thing is you and me, we know pain." He continues. "I can't bear thinking about . . .You know how hard it is to lose your Mama, Crane." He looks at me with sad, dark eyes. "I couldn't bear to . . not our own sweet babies having to . . ." He pauses and turns to look out the window. "And what I am supposed to say to Guthrie? How the hell am I suppose to tell him he might lose the only mother he's ever known? Did I give her to him, just to have her ripped from him later? I'm not doing this again. I AM NOT." He tries to suppress a low sob and I reach out and squeeze his shoulder.

"Shut the hell up, Adam." I say.

"Yeah." He agrees.

***7***

I don't live at the ranch anymore. When Molly and I first got married, we built an apartment in the attic, but time and children made it too small. We've got our own place in town, behind her vet clinic. I go out to the ranch each morning, and our kids catch the bus from school back there and spend the afternoon on the ranch with their cousins. Sometimes we all eat dinner together, and sometimes we head home.

"You going now?" Molly asks me, as I pause in our bedroom buttoning my shirt.

"Yeah." Right now the sound from our yard is deafening. It is Cousin Day; a new tradition. All the cousins gather on a Saturday and play it up until dark. It's our turn. My own four children, Adam and Hannah's six, and Brian's three are all here. Molly holds Brian's youngest in her arms. She is a sweet six month old who has my older brothers dark eyes. I kiss the top of her fuzzy head. Isabel my sister/niece is chasing after the little ones in the backyard, conducting some sort of elaborate war involving marshmallow blow guns that they spent the afternoon building together. She is home from college for the weekend.

Izzy is as much as a McFadden as any other member of our family. On her fourteenth birthday, she asked for only one gift; to have her last name legally changed to McFadden. Everyone pitched in to cover the fees so she's officially one of us. I pause watching all the kids play thinking about the many difficult days ahead of them; thinking about what they will be told later tonight . . .

Molly wraps her arm around me, kissing me gently. "Oh, Crane." She whispers.

"I know, Babe." I say kissing my wife and then gathering all my courage, I head out to Circle Bar Seven.

***7***

We always have to work meetings around Daniel's schedule. He's a big-time star now, which cracks me up. He is still just Daniel to me - my kid brother who used to ask me to show him guitar chords night and day. Fortunately, it is a weekend that he is off from touring, so the meeting was easily put together.

Everyone is there and they all believe that it is just a decision about the ranch and that we've gathered together because Guthrie was in town for a seminar. My baby brother is a doctor now, well almost, he's just finishing up his residency. I can't believe that he is grown with a wife of his own. He and Jeanne live in Los Angeles and it is so far away.

Hannah is so good at keeping secrets that no one has any idea. The only reason, I know anything is because I stepped into the kitchen at exactly the wrong time, and found my older brother sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing. I couldn't get him to utter a word, and began to panic running through the house. I found Hannah sitting at the bottom of the stairs, also sobbing. They had no choice but to tell me.

"Alright." Adam says nervously as I enter and hug all my brothers. "Family meeting."

We gather in the front room which hasn't changed much, although it is once again littered with toys; just like when we were boys.

"I've got something too." Guthrie says with a grin.

"You should go first." Hannah says softly.

"Okay," He pauses dramatically. "Grandma." He grins broadly, and Hannah jumps up, throwing her arms around him.

"Oh, Guthrie! Really?" He nods and we all cheer. "Adam!" She says looking over at my brother whose eyes fill with tears. He leans over and kisses Guthrie's cheek.

"What do you think of that?" Guthrie grins up at Adam echoing the words he said to us nearly fifteen years ago.

"_We got married this afternoon. What do you think of that?_

"Congratulations, Guthrie!" Adam says grinning proudly. We are all laughing and talking and some of the tension dissipates.

"Little brother!" Daniels says. "Alright then!" Daniel is our resident newlywed. He and his wife Julie got married about seven months ago. He is blissfully happy just now, and I hate to think how the next few minutes will impact that happiness.

It falls quiet again, and Adam rises. He is standing near the fireplace, and Hannah sits beside him in the armchair. He hesitates, clearly struggling. She reaches out and grabs onto his hand, squeezing his fingers. I watch as he rests his eyes on her, and the look they share, well, watching it, I feel like I'm intruding, and my heart breaks thinking of the pain they are facing; the pain we all face. There is a heaviness and everyone can sense it.

"You are making me nervous." Brian says at last studying Adam who is standing and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yeah, well, this is hard." Adam sighs and I cannot bear to meet his eyes.

"I have cancer." Hannah says without preamble. "Breast cancer." It is if all the air has been sucked out of the room. She rises, standing beside Adam who wraps an arm around her and I am reminded of the time she overturned the kitchen table, shocking us all.

"Wh . . wh.. what?" Brian says half-rising. "What did you say?"

"Don't make me say it again, Bri." Hannah says, her voice trembling.

"We've been waiting to find out for sure." Adam says. "It's . . .its . . ." He sits heavily in the armchair unable to continue.

"There's no easy way to say it." She says drawing in a deep breath. I can almost see her regain her strength. "I've got a surgery scheduled the week after next. We're going to tell the kids and Izzy tonight. I wanted to tell you myself." She stands before us and we are, all of us, awed by her strength.

"I'm really sorry." She continues as we listen in stunned silence. "I know how much this will scare all of you. But I'm not leaving. I'm not." She crosses to Guthrie, who although twenty-five now, is still her first baby. "You hear me Guth? I . . .am . . . not . . . leaving!" She hits each word hard, and I feel each one strengthening me. "There will be some rough days ahead, and I need you." She looks up at all of us. "I need my Brotherhood around me." She meets all of our eyes. "You know how he gets." She continues indicating my oldest brother who seems to have shrunk down, his eyes hidden behind his hand. "You promise to hold him up, and each other too."

"Yes ma'am." Daniel says his voice husky with tears. We are all crying. How could we not? He brought her home to us, and even though most of us were grown, she became our dearest mother/sister; the only mother the younger ones have ever really known. We love her in a deeper way than we love our other brother's wives. She is the string that tied us together tightly, and that string cannot be undone.

I watch Adam as he shifts his jaw and grinds his teeth. He looks like a man who is holding his breath. He looks up and his eyes rest on her. For as long as he has known Hannah, his eyes always look for her first.

"Alright then," She says. She turns to Guthrie. "Guthrie," She says gently but he won't look up at her. "Guthrie James McFadden, you look at me!" His slim shoulders are shaking, but he cannot disobey her. He rises slowly and his face is covered in tears, his pale skin even more pale than usual.

"Oh, Mama!" is all he can say burying his face in her neck as she wraps her arms around him. We are all shattered by his grief; his fear. Brian who has been sobbing quietly beside me, rises abruptly. He storms angrily outside, muttering, "Damn it to hell!" And then we hear the steady, angry swing of the ax. My nephews won't have to chop firewood for a long time to come.

Guthrie steps back from Hannah wiping his eyes. "A mastectomy?" He asks.

"Bilateral mastectomy. It had already spread before they found it so." Adam says rising and wrapping his arms around her.

Guthrie nods. "Okay. It's a hard decision but it is the best way to know, for sure. Lymph node involvement?" He is all business now.

"We are waiting for results, hon." Hannah says.

"Okay." He swallows hard and nods his head. "Okay. The prognosis for breast cancer is much better than other cancers. And you are very healthy in general."

She nods, and tears pool in her dark eyes. "Yeah. I'm gonna be okay, Guthrie. I promise you."

I wish he didn't live so far away. Hannah loves all of us, but Guthrie was the first to accept her. He loved her from the first second that Adam introduce her to him. He was just twelve years old then, and so longed to have a mother. He brings her a joy and comfort that is powerful. We all love her, and all of us are close to her. She loves each of us too, but Brian and Guthrie have a special place in her heart.

Guthrie because he has no memory of our mother, so Hannah is all he's ever known, and Brian because well, they had to fight hard to find a way to make with peace with one another. He was not happy that Adam had married, and wanted her to go away. He pretended not to like her, but I think secretly he was just terrified. Losing our parents like we did left scars on all of us - each one in different ways. Brian was deeply scarred, and has a very difficult time letting people get close to him. He is always afraid that sooner or later they will leave, and he will end up mourning them. But trying to keep yourself from loving Hannah, is like trying to convince yourself a kitten is ugly. It can't be done, which is what Brian found out.

I glance around at my brothers, all of us so clearly hurt, and think about how far apart we all our now. I miss the days when we were all together. I cannot imagine Guthrie's child being born so far from us; my own flesh and blood so distant from me.

We spend the evening together, such as we are. We move from crying to laughing and back again. We all kiss her, hug her, and tell her how much we love her. We retell as many stories as we can remember of all the times we've had together and I pray every second that I'm there, "Let there be so many more to follow. Dear God, don't take her from us, please!"

Daniel and I tease some of the old songs out of our piano and guitar, and our voices lift into the night like when we were all still young. We sing just about every song we know - except the one Daniel wrote for Hannah. None of us can sing that song just now.

We discuss the ranch, which also includes vineyards now. One good difference between now and then, is that our ranch is pretty profitable. It grows dark, and I don't want to leave the house. Izzy comes home with Adam and Hannah's six in tow. Molly brings Brian's girls with our four along for the ride. The mood shifts then, and we understand that they will have to face their children and tell them that their mother is very sick. My heart aches. Both Daniel and Guthrie are staying at the house, and it comforts me, that my nephews and my niece will have some of their uncles near to help them.

I stand on the porch and find Brian there.

"You okay?" I ask him.

"No, hell no!" He says and he is angry. His voice is tinged with the old bitter tone that I haven't heard in years and years. Brian was widowed nearly twelve years ago. His first wife was his for six months and two days. He has since remarried and has found a deep happiness again, but this, this is difficult for him.

"Brian . . ." I begin but realize that I can't think of one damn word to comfort him.

"She's . . ." He looks down. "I don't love anyone like I love her, you know? I only got one sister; just one. She put up with all that crap from me in the beginning, and she brought Katie and me together. Katie never would've married me, if she hadn't stepped in and I wouldn't have had those few sweet days with her. Katie was gonna leave town and run, you know, but Hannah talked her into letting me decide if it was worth the risk. And it was, but Jesus, Crane! Losing Katie hurt so bad. It still does. I mean, I love Caroline and I'm happy, but it still hurts. And Adam and Hannah, they've been together so long. He wouldn't survive it. It would kill him." He looks at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. "It would kill me too. It isn't fair. I'm an orphan, and a God damn widow. He can't have my sister too!" He storms down the steps and away from me toward the house we built when he and Caroline first married.

"He's angry." Hannah says stepping into the porch beside me. She sighs. "I hate how much this hurts him; hurts you all."

"Yeah. He loves you and love is such a dangerous thing." I step back to where she stands and wrap an arm around her. "It takes him awhile to warm up to folks, but when he loves, he loves hard." She nods and rests her head against my shoulder.

"God, I'm sorry, Crane." She says and I kiss her forehead thinking how ridiculous it is that she is apologizing to us, and also how typically Hannah it is too.

"You go and get cancer on purpose?" I ask trying to tease a smile out of her.

"Well, you know me, I'm nothing but trouble." She grins, and I nod my head.

"You want Molly and I to stick around while you talk to the kids?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, but thank you Crane. I know they'll come to you. I know they've got plenty of folks to help them."

Adam and Hannah's oldest are twin boys; Jeb and Jackson. They are nearly thirteen years old now. I was fourteen when I lost my parents and looking at them now, is so painful to me. They look like my brother. They are tall with dark serious eyes. Jeb takes after his uncle Brian for whom he was named, and can be trouble if he tries, but they both love their mother so. Their youngest is just six years old; Riley. He still is often found wandering around with a teddy bear in his grasp. He tags around behind his brother Everett who is just eighteen months his senior. They remind me so much of my brothers Evan and Ford, who were also born close together. Henry is just eight years old and is the quietest child I've ever known. His hair is a deep chesnut brown, just like his mothers but he has bright blue eyes that watch the world around him. Then there is Katie, she is eleven and looks just like my beautiful sister, right down to the dimples that show up whenever she smiles. She is redhaired like her grandmother, and as the only girl, spoiled. Adam is hard-pressed to say no to his little girl. I cannot, cannot imagine them losing their mother. Adam is right. I know the horrific searing pain it would bring, and I cannot allow that to happen to my nephews and my sweet niece.

But I am powerless.

We ride home in silence, our little ones have fallen asleep in just the short ride home. They've had a long day. We carry them in, and tuck them into bed. I sit in our livingroom for a long time thinking; remembering. It is as if I am that high school freshman all over again; completely destroyed but pretending for the sake of my younger brothers that everything is still ok.

"Come to bed, Crane." Molly says coming to sit beside me.

"Sorry." I say softly and wrap my arms around her. She rests her head against my shoulder.

"It is all so uncertain . . ." She says softly.

"Yes." I kiss the top of her head. "But it always has been. I forget that. You never, ever know when a truck is going to cross that white line, and everything changes." I say.

"She told me once, it must have been that first year we married, but I'd been out later than you had expected and you were nearly hysterical. And the next day, I talked to her about it; how ridiculous I thought you had been - how much you over-reacted. And she told me, 'McFadden men have never really recovered. They appear so strong and solid, but just underneath they are still those shattered boys. You have to be very careful. You have to be careful with you, for their sake. They expect to lose you.'"

"It is just . . ." I say burying my face in her soft shoulder. "He won't survive it. I'm not sure any of us would." She holds me tightly. But even I know that's not entirely true. You'd be surprised what you can survive when you haven't got any choice at all. You would be amazed what you can endure - even when you don't want to endure it.


	3. Adam

I'm having a great deal of difficulty getting air into my lungs. I inhale, but it doesn't seem to help. I'm standing in a dingy hallway, pacing, waiting, and trying to get some goddamn air into my lungs. I'm actually counting the square tiles on the floor so that I don't have to think. I don't want to think about anything. I don't want to think about the words on the forms I signed. I don't want to think of the list of dangers and complications. I don't want to think of statistics and odds. I don't want to think about words like oncologist or treatment. I don't want to remember the look in my beautiful girl's dark eyes as they wheeled her down the hallway away from me. I don't want to think about the fact that right now, even as I pace, even as I count these tiles, even as I try to fill these lungs with air, they are cutting into her beautiful body trying to save her life.

We woke up like it was any other morning. The only real difference being that I left all the chores to my sons and my brother. Instead, I stayed in bed cuddling my wife close to me - my hands on her familiar body. I know her like I know myself, but after today she will be changed. Her body will be forever scarred - not that I give a damn. She is the most beautiful woman to ever take a breath of air, and I'll take her however she is; breasts or not. I only want her with me everyday forever, until we breathe our last, together. Besides, the things that make her beautiful haven't got a thing to do with that body of hers - although, truth be told even after six children and nearly fifteen years of ranching, that girl's got one damn fine body.

We sit around the breakfast table like always, except she can't eat anything, and the very thought of food makes my stomach churn. We've got some extras with us - although Guthrie and his wife, Jeanne are staying upstairs in their apartment this morning - wanting to give us privacy. It's fine by me. I cannot take my little brother's face this morning. Guthrie and Hannah are like two peas in a pod and it has been that way since the day I married her. He cannot bear that she is suffering, and I cannot bear to see his pain. I got enough on my plate as it is.

I look down the length of the table at our six babies and try not to remember the sound of my six brothers crying; even all these years later it still haunts me and I guess it always will. I do not want to have to tell another group of children that their mother will never be coming home. I cannot do it. I just don't have it in me. I am all too familiar with that pain and that responsibility. Hannah catches my eye and shakes her head at me. We had a deal, her and I, I promised to keep it together this morning. So far, I'm not doing very well at keeping my promise. Our youngest, Riley senses my dark mood, and climbs up onto my lap. He kisses my cheek.

"Smile Daddy." He says and then turns my face toward his mother. "Look at Mama. Smile!" I smile because he is six years old and very demanding. He would never let it go, but my eyes are filled with tears. She does not smile back. She is angry with me because it is barely seven in the morning and I'm already breaking our deal.

"I'll walk you to the bus stop." She says smiling at them. "Go, and get your things." They all go, but I can see Jeb lingering in the hallway.

When they are gone, she unleashes her anger, "Knock it off, Adam." She says fiercely.

"I'm sorry, darlin', but I . . ." She cuts me off seeing my eyes well with tears.

"Damn it, Adam. Knock it off." She hears how harsh her voice sounds, and shakes her head at me. "Some cowboy!" She rises and passes me where I sit at the table, and runs her hand through my hair, pausing to kiss the top of my head.

"Please honey." She says softly and then goes out to meet our children at the door. I rise and watch her walk them out to the bus stop. Both Riley and Everett hold her hands, but I watch as Jeb doubles back, no doubt telling her he forgot something.

He hesitates in the doorway, seeing me standing there watching him. He's thirteen and all arms and legs. He reminds me of his Uncle Guthrie. He dotes on his mama just as Guthrie does, and worries and fusses over her.

"Dad, can I . . ." He hesitates, unsure. "I wanna be there." I pull him to me and wrap my arms around him.

"They won't let you see her, hon." I say to him.

"But I can't just sit in class and . . ." He chews the corner of his bottom lip, trying unsuccessfully to fight off tears.

"Easy, Jeb." I say kissing him. He is shaking, and crying.

"Promise me! Promise me that everything is going to be alright!" He begs.

"Jeb," I say my voice suddenly thick with unshed tears. "I wish I could promise that. I hope it will be true. I hope it with all my heart. But whatever lies ahead. I promise I'll be here."

He pushes back from me angry. "What good are you then? Why do you have to be so damn honest? Huh? Why can't you just lie like other parents?"

"Son, easy." I say pulling him back into my arms. He fights against me, so angry, but I am strong and don't let go of him.

"Why Dad, why?" He asks finally surrendering to me.

"I don't know." And I realize that answer is no better than any of the others I've given him. I kiss him again. "Why don't you stay and help Uncle Brian today? Uncle Guthrie will be out there too. They could use a good worker."

He squeezes me so tightly, and he is still in my arms when Hannah returns. I can tell that she wants to go to him, and comfort him, but I know he would only clam up and then feel guilty for worrying her. I shake my head at her, and she goes upstairs instead.

"I'm sorry, Dad." He says after a time. "I know I should be . . ."

"You be whatever you feel, Jeb." I say cutting him off. The one thing I do know about is helping young men deal with pain and grief. "There aren't any rules, and you don't have to live up to some stupid expectation of how you are supposed to act. You feel angry sometimes, sometimes sad, and sometimes, believe it or not, you'll even feel happy."

He studies me for a moment. My children know my history. They've been told the stories of their grandparents. That was something that was important for me, for all of us. I wanted them to have a sense of family; of a past. But I didn't expect that they would also know the stories of us - of afterwards. They know how their Uncle Brian and I struggled as young teenagers to raise the family. They know by heart the story of my walking up the front path holding onto their mother's hand and surprising my brothers with a wife. It is their past too, and shaped me into the father I am. They laugh at me sometimes saying, "You aren't like other dads."

"What?" I ask. "What do you mean?" But they just shake their heads at me and laugh.

My son studies me, and seems to draw a strength from within. "It won't be the same, Dad." He says looking up at me with dark eyes that are a reflection of his mother's beautiful eyes. And I am shocked that it is _he_ that is comforting _me_ in this moment. "She's gonna be okay, and you don't have to be all alone this time."

_Ah, hell!_ I think. _Hannah's gonna kill me._ I am crying now, but it is her own son's fault. I pull him to me.

"I love you, Jeb." I swallow hard attempting to regain control. "Now, go on and help your Uncles."

"I love you too, Dad." He says and standing on tiptoe, he kisses my cheek and runs out the door.

"He's skipping school?" Hannah asks stepping into the room. Her words don't register with me. I am distracted. She is about to face surgery. She is sick and yet she looks so beautiful. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.

"Adam?" She stands one hand on her hip.

"I'm sorry, but you look so beau . . . " I stop myself knowing if I continue I will not be able to keep it in control.

"You promised." She says softly. I nod and swallow. "What about Jeb?"

"He's struggling, Darlin'." I tell her. "Brian and Guthrie will babysit him for you. I turn away from her and wipe the tears from my face, drawing in a deep breath.

"Knock it off, Adam." She says for the third time this morning.

"No." I say firmly. I step towards her, and wrap my arms around her pulling her tight against my chest. I want to say ten thousand things to her, but all I can manage is, "I love you, girl."

"You are one damn stubborn cowboy." She says looking up into my eyes.

"Not half as stubborn as you." I say to her. I lean in and kiss her, and it as powerful as a first kiss. She's fighting tears now, and now I am sorry I didn't do a better job of managing my emotions. I hate seeing her in pain. I run my hand along the line of her chin. "You are the most beautiful girl to ever take a breath. And you always will be."

"I . . ." She opens her mouth but can't speak.

"Always." I repeat reassuring her. "It ain't that beautiful body that makes you shine, girl. You're beauty is so much deeper than that."

"What kind of grammar is that?" She asks tears shining brightly in her eyes.

I laugh out loud. My family is well aware of my opinion on matters involving grammar and sentence structure. I sigh and say at last, "We'd better get on the road."

"Okay." She glances around fussing here and there over little things. She won't be back at home for awhile. I guide her to the door, but she hesitates and turning around looks at the house one last time.

"When I come home," She begins softly, but I interrupt her.

"Knock it off, honey." I say with a grin, but it doesn't stop her, anymore than it stops me.

"When I come home, everything will be different."

I put my arms around her. "No. Nothing will change between you and me. You are my beautiful girl forever, no surgeon's knife could ever cut deep enough to change that."

We walk out the door and down the porch steps together, our fingers intertwined, just like our hearts.

***7***

"You want some coffee? Are you hungry?" Izzy approaches me. She is nineteen and so beautiful it fills me with equal measures of pride and terror. She came home late this morning, and will go back to the house and manage the kids for us.

"No, honey." I sigh and put my arm around her.

"You want to walk outside, Dad?"

"No hon. I'm alright. Quit fussin'" I kiss her forehead. She came to us at seven. Hannah's sister had died and she was left with her alcoholic, drug addict father. She took a bus and walked miles and miles to us. Like my brothers, she is one of Hannah's children. She is our daughter and we love her. Every time I look at her, I see her as a tiny girl still. I can remember when she was nine years old and she came to our room late at night.

_"What is it?" Hannah had asked scooping her up into her arms._

_"I wanted to know . . . Would you mind if . . ." She looked up at me with big blue eyes. "Could sometimes I call you Dad?" _

_I was stunned and deeply moved. I couldn't speak for a minute which she of course misunderstood._

_"Oh, sweetheart," Hannah said seeing her face. "He's happy. He just can't talk now." She kissed her cheek. I climbed out of bed and walked around to where she sat in her Aunt's arms. _

_"I would be proud." I said lifting her up and kissing her cheek. _

It is hard to believe that was a good ten years ago. I cannot picture our house without her in it.

I look at her now, so worried and so grown up.

"It's alright, sweetheart. They should be finished soon. We just gotta hang in a little longer." I squeeze her shoulder. "I'm sorry about our fight." I say.

She's dropping out of school for the rest of the semester. Neither Hannah nor I, wanted her to, but she is stubborn. It turns out you don't have to be a McFadden blood-relative to have a McFadden stubborn streak. We argued and argued about it over the phone, and then she told us we could be as mad as we wanted. It didn't matter. It was already done. She was just informing us. I was furious. Of course, it is easier to be furious at my headstrong daughter than deal with all my other emotions.

We wait for a lifetime. My brothers and their wives take turns holding my hand. They try to get me to eat; to go outside; to talk; to breathe.

I've fallen into a dark place, though and there's only one who can pull me out of it. I keep seeing her like I did that first day, dressed in that ridiculous outfit she had to wear when she worked at Marie's. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and I wanted to grab her and kiss her right then, but realized what a ridiculous thought that was. Instead I removed my hat and nodded trying to think of something, anything I could say so that she would talk to me. And then she smiled at me, and I swear to God, my heart stopped. I know how sappy that sounds, but it is the God's honest truth. I can't explain it. Looking back now, I think it was because she and I are a pair. We are meant to be together for all time. And even if our mind's didn't understand it, our hearts knew it the very first second we met. I am hers and she is mine; for always; forever. I cannot exist without her. I cannot raise her children alone. I can't sleep in that bed without her by my side. Hell, I can't even get air in my lungs without her.

"Adam?" Brian is standing beside me now, his hand on my arm. "Why don't you sit down, man? There's a chair right over there."

I don't move to sit in the chair though, I feel my legs giving out beneath and slide down along the wall so that I'm sitting my knees bent in front of me in the hallway. Brian sits beside me, with one arm across my shoulders. He rests his chin right on my shoulder so that he can whisper into my ear.

"Breathe in." He says softly. "That's it. Now, out." I do as he directs. It's the stupidest thing in the world, but I need someone to tell me how to breathe just now. "Again." He says. We sit like that for the longest time. Him, telling me to breathe and me, obeying like a small child. After a time I can breathe without him telling me how, but he doesn't move an inch away from me.

"Thanks, Brian. I don't know why . . ."

"It is hard to breathe without her." He says gently, and I know he's thinking of Kathleen.

"Yeah." I say understanding just a sliver of what he suffered all those years ago.

"How . . . how," I ask him. "How did you survive it?"

He sits back from me just a few inches so I can see his face. "No choice." He says. "And you and that wife of yours. You kept me together." I nod remembering Hannah and me, hiking all the way to where Brian had been living after Kathleen's death, to bring him home. My sweet girl, ever stubborn and determined.

He squeezes my shoulder and I rest my head against him, so that he is holding me in an awkward, crouched hug.

"It won't end the same for you, brother." He whispers. "It won't."

Her surgeon comes out then, and somehow I find myself standing before him. I don't remember rising, or walking to him. I don't even remember reaching out and shaking his hand, but when I look down, I can see that I am. The Brotherhood, and their wives gather around behind me. They are an impressive wall of strength.

"Your wife is in recovery. You can go see her in about an hour or so."

"Were . . ." He continues before I even get the sentence out.

"The surgery went very well. I believe that we removed all of the tumor. We'll run more tests and have a better idea. Remember, this is just the first step, but it looks like a good first step. Mr. McFadden, you remember what Dr. Kearny said. She still has a long treatment ahead of her."

"Yeah," I say through tears. "Yeah. I know, but this went well? I mean, it will help?" I realize I'm not making sense, but I can't seem to manage clear thought just now.

"Yes." He says. "In my opinion, you made the right choice."

"I want to see her. Can I see her?" I'm filled with panic. "Could I just look in the window or . . ." I realize that I'm edging dangerously close to losing all control.

"I will tell the nurse to let you in to see her, as soon as possible." He says.

"Thank you." I say. "Thank you so much. You don't know how much I love . . ." He shifts looking very uncomfortable. "Are you married?" I ask him.

"I'm divorced." He says softly.

"Oh, well. She's everything to me; everything."

He nods at me clearly wanting nothing more than to get away from me. "You need to sit down, Mr. McFadden. Make sure he sits down, and maybe get him a drink of water." He says to everyone gathered behind me.

Brian and Crane, take me by the arms and somehow the three of us managed to walk me to one of those horrible waiting room chairs. I collapse into it and look up at them; all of them.

"Guthrie?" I ask searching the crowd of family for him. "Guthrie?"

He steps from the crowd assuming I want his expert medical opinion.

"It is good news, Adam. The tests results will let us know more, but if the surgeon feels hopeful, that is a really good thing."

"No, son." I say to him. "Come here." I hold my arms out to him, and pull him to me, kissing his cheek, as though he were still just a small boy in my arms. "I swear to you, your Mama's gonna be okay. She's gonna hold that baby of yours. I promise you." His face is so close to mine that our foreheads are almost touching. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"No sir." He says beginning to cry. "Not once my whole life long."

"I don't aim to start now." I say. He nods at me, and I look up at everyone around us. I can see his wife Jeanne is sobbing, everyone is. I am surrounded by love, and it strengthens me somehow. "Go and put your arms around, Jeanne, son." I say to him, and he obeys, pausing just long enough to kiss me on my forehead

"Listen," I say to them all. "Shes gonna beat this. She's a fighter - you know how tough that girl is! She took on all of you like it was nothing at all." They nod solemnly.

"That's right!" Evan says.

"All of us and that disaster of a house,too." Ford says.

"Cancer's about to get his ass kicked." Brian says more hopeful than he has sounded in weeks.

"Damn straight!" Crane agrees.

I look out at my family, all around me and am reminded of the words that my son said to me just this morning, "You aren't alone this time." I am so grateful that he is right.

***7***

She opens her eyes slowly, and stirring moans a little. But as soon as her eyes land on me, she smiles. "Hey." She says her voice low and groggy with sleep.

"Hey, beautiful girl." I say smiling right back.

"Did they . . ."

"It went great, hon." I tell her. "You just rest for right now, okay. You close your eyes and sleep. I'll be right here." I lean over and kiss her forehead.

"Do I look . . ." She turns to look down, but it causes her pain, and she can't really move.

"You are beautiful, Hannah Joy, and right now you are all wrapped up in bandages." I give a half-hearted laugh. "You aren't getting vain on me after all this time?"

"It's too late for that." She says, and closes her eyes.

I brush my hand across her forehead, and leaning close, kiss her lips. I am crying. The tears roll down my face and I can't stop them, but she's drifting back to sleep, so I give up trying.

"I love you." She says. "I love you, Rancher Man."

"Oh, I love you, Hannah Joy. I can't ever say how much." I sit watching her sleep, so grateful. I cannot express how grateful I am in this moment. And as I watch her I realize that I am breathing; air is filling my lungs again.

At last, I can take a breath.


	4. Hannah

Mostly, I'm happy to be home. I can hear the children who are playing outside, and I'm filled with an odd kind of happiness. I don't have to listen to the sounds of the hospital anymore. I can hear the familiar lowing of the cattle, the noise of the chickens as my children run across the yard, and my husband's voice mellow and sweet talking to his brothers.

The pain is fading and is so much better than when I first awoke from surgery. But I am still really tired. I had no idea how tired having surgery could make you. I am determined, however, to spend my days with my family and not lying in this bed. I rise slowly and turn to dress.

I'm standing in front of the mirror, only half-dressed when Adam steps into the room.

"I thought you were going to . . ." He stops cold seeing me staring at myself. He hesitates for the briefest of seconds, and then closing the door, moves to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders. I am still wrapped in bandages, but even so, the difference is clear.

"I sure hope you are a leg man." I joke meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Well, truth be told darlin'," He says grinning at me. "I'm partial to that pretty little backside of yours. 'Sides now you won't stretch out the front of those shirts you always steal from me."

"They fit us the same now." I agree. I'm trying not to cry. I'm trying to be brave, but seeing myself is shocking.

"Hey," My husband says, gently, tenderly, holding me close to him. "You are the most beautiful girl, I have ever seen."

"You live on a cattle ranch in the middle of nowhere." I point out.

"I've been places." He says defensively.

"Feed stores, farm equipment stores." I say, and find myself smiling at him.

"You are beautiful, hon." He says again for the hundredth time since the surgery.

I know he believes it too. When I look at Adam I can hardly believe my luck. He is tall, six foot two. He has a chiseled body from working day after day on the ranch. He's heavier than when I first met him, but you wouldn't know it, unless you saw a picture of him at twenty-seven. He's all muscle. He even has a strong jaw like some prince in a Disney cartoon. It's ridiculous. His hair is thick, although it is sprinkled with grey now. And he is so faithful, loyal, loving and good. I was actually relieved to discover he had a temper because I was starting to think he was too good to be true.

He has told me over and over, that it does not matter to him that my body has been so altered. I am his beautiful girl. Seeing myself through his eyes, I can imagine that he still finds me beautiful, but it is difficult to believe. I don't feel beautiful. I don't feel beautiful at all.

He takes the shirt that I'm holding in my hands and helps me slide my arms into it. He stands between me and the mirror and buttons it. It hangs loosely on me and I sigh, but he puts an arm around me kissing my cheek. We stand together facing the mirror.

"I love you, Hannah Joy." He says his eyes locked on mine in the mirror.

"Good thing." I say. "I can't pay for those medical bills on my own." He smiles at me knowing that I'm trying to keep myself from falling apart. He pulls me into his arms, gently so as not to cause me any pain.

"You are nothing but trouble, girl." He whispers. His hands on either side of my face. He smiles at me and kisses me. I rest my head on his shoulder, and we stand together like that for a long time; we sway gentle as though we are dancing even though no one else can hear the music.

***7***

Everyone fusses over me which makes me feel self-conscious. Most everyone is home. Both Evan and Daniel were here for the surgery but both are back on the road now. Guthrie and Jeanne are here and I am thrilled to be able to fuss over Jeanne who is fighting a battle with morning sickness.

"Oh, honey!" I say coming into the bathroom and handing her a washcloth. "You poor sweet girl!" I brush her blond hair back from her pale skin.

"Why do they call it morning sickness? It is three in the afternoon!"

"Probably because a man named it." I say with a laugh.

"How long will it last?" She asks me.

"Nine months." I say shaking my head.

"I've done the math. Forty weeks is ten months."

I want to laugh but she looks so sad.

"You've just uncovered the biggest lie ever told." I tell her.

"Aren't you supposed to say something encouraging like, 'It isn't that bad' or 'It will be over soon'?"

"Oh, you want me to lie to you!" I say and put an arm around her. She leans against me.

"Yes, please."

"How about an encouraging truth? Your baby will have Guthrie's beautiful eyes."

"Oh, I hope so!" She says smiling.

"Why don't you go lie down on our bed?" I tell her. "You can get some peace and quiet."

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you." She says protesting.

"I am so grateful to have someone to fuss over. Besides that's my grandbaby!"

I am so fortunate. All my brothers have married well. I am happy to say I love all their wives. I was especially nervous about Guthrie's girl - he is my sweet first child and lived far away. When Ford fell in love, I watched it happen. It was a girl we knew. Jeanne was a distant stranger, a city girl. But the second I met her, I knew he would marry her and they would be happy.

I tuck her into our bed and head downstairs. Brian, Adam and Crane have all gone off, working. Caroline is in the kitchen cooking, and Guthrie sits at the table helping Jeb, Jackson and Katie with their homework. He's helping Jackson with his math and it is as if I've travelled backwards in time. I can see Crane and Guthrie working on his own math problems.

"You hungry, Mama?" Jeb asks and they all look at me.

"I'm fine. Do your homework."

"Yes, ma'am." He says so quickly that I know he's overwrought with worry.

"What did he say?" Guthrie asks me laughing.

"You." I say shaking my head at him, but I smile too. Guthrie understands me like no one else. He rises from the table satisfied Jackson understands what he's working on.

"How about a walk?" He asks.

"Yes." I say. I'm sick to death of the indoors. We pass the little ones who are outside playing. I am wrapped in Adam's jean jacket. It is huge on me. The little ones come with us. Riley keeps running ahead and bringing me treasures he finds.

"You holding up okay?" Guthrie asks me.

"Well, I've had easier times." I confess. He reaches for my hand. "I can't wait to meet that baby, though." I smile at him; my boy turned man.

"I'm a little nervous. I don't know much about fathers." He says.

"Sure you do." I say.

"Adam is a lot to live up to." He says. "I wish we lived closer."

"Every bird flies away sooner or later." I say, but, oh, how I miss him!

"You talk to Adam?" I ask. He slides his eyes sideways at me.

"I won't be a spy." He says.

"Guthrie!" I say exasperated.

"He's still breathing which is more than I expected. He's hanging in, Hannah. Flip it around and think how you'd be."

"I know." I've thought about it a lot. "I just want to make sure he's giving himself space to fall apart. I understand he can't with me, but . . .promise you'll look after him- especially if . . ."

"Hannah!" He is instantly furious, but I am determined.

"Promise it, Guthrie!" He's never failed to keep a promise to me, and this might be the most important one he ever makes.

"Hannah!" He says again. "Stop talking like that."

"Make me a promise, Guthrie. Promise you'll make sure and take care of him."

"Of course! Jesus! Mom!" He strides ahead of me in a rage and I feel terrible. I've pushed him too far.

When I catch up to him, he is standing near a small stream with Henry, Riley and Everett. They are floating leaves together.

"I'm sorry, hon." I say to him, but he doesn't respond. He keeps his back to me, and I know I've hurt him deeply.

"It's alright." He says softly. The boys run off looking for stones to throw in the stream. He faces me then.

"I'm sorry." I say again. I put my hand on his arm. "Guthrie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have . . ."

"I can't think like that. You are my mother." Tears fill my eyes. "I waited so long for you! I woke up every night crying for you to come to me. I can't think about you . . .just because I'm grown doesn't change it, Hannah. Nothing could ever change how much I need my parents. You and Adam . . .you need to help me raise this child."

I reach out and he puts an arm around me. He's crying too, and I rest my head on his shoulder. I can still never quite adjust to the fact that he is so tall now. In my heart I still see that small boy walking up the path toward me, hoping his older brother brought him some candy.

I never met Adam's parents. They died long before I fell in love with their oldest son. But I love them deeply; they gave me these beautiful boys.

I have spent the last fourteen years working with them, singing with them, talking with them, and fighting with them. I've wiped their foreheads when they were sick, forced them to finish their homework and their chores, taught them how to be respectful to a pretty girl, ironed their clothes, baked their birthday cakes and held them in my arms when they cried. I've stood up for them at their award ceremonies, soccer games, basketball games, rodeos, concerts, graduations and weddings. I have loved them the best I could.

To Brian and Crane, I am a sister; we long ago dropped the in-law part. To Evan, Ford and Guthrie I am a mother; the only one Guthrie can remember. To Daniel who stands somewhere in the middle between his older and younger brothers, I am a little of both.

They are my boys; all of them. They are the only family I really ever had until our own children came along. I love them deeply and dearly. And though I gave birth to six, I have ten and a half children, Daniel counting for half. And what is more, though I am thirty-seven years old, my youngest child is six, but my oldest is thirty-two.

After our walk, I am exhausted and go up to our bedroom to sleep. Jeanne is curled beside me, resting while my grandchild grows inside her. I am suddenly overwhelmed by the sweetness of my life and determine to lock this grateful joy inside my heart so that I can carry it with me tomorrow when we begin the work of poisoning my body just enough so that all of the cancer will die.


	5. Daniel

I stand in the wings listening to the applause, waiting for the right moment. I've done this thousands of times over the years. Stepping out onto to stage is a normal for me as a shopkeeper opening his store, a teller opening his window at a bank, or a teacher stepping in front of her class. I do this nearly every day. The experience is completely different for the audience, however. This is the most important concert of my tour for them. It is exciting and thrilling.

I've done this all before - everything is planned precisely - even the jokes. Even this, the last part, where we leave the stage as though the show has ended and then come back out later for one last song.

I don't mean to sound as though I don't enjoy it or I am ungrateful. I love what I do, and can't believe this is how I get to spend my days. It is an amazing way to make a living. Believe me, I grew up on a cattle ranch, and I know what actual hard work is like. I just mean, I don't get nervous anymore. Being on stage is normal for me, but tonight is different. Tonight I am so nervous I can hardly make my fingers obey and play the chords. And this last part, is the part that really terrifies me.

It was Ford who suggested the benefit concert and I felt stupid for not thinking of it myself. I kept wishing there was something I could do, but there it was right in front of me. Raising awareness could actually help people - might even save lives. If Hannah's cancer had been diagnosed earlier, her treatment wouldn't have had to have been so radical. So tonight's concert is for her; in her honor and all the money is going to a fund for people who don't have insurance and to research.

We are fortunate that this happened now, after the ranch became profitable. We can afford to pay for good insurance. I keep thinking about what we would have done if this had happened ten years ago when the ranch was struggling. I know Adam would have moved heaven and earth to make sure that she was taken care of; hell we all would have, but the worry over money would have been one more burden, and we've got burdens enough.

"You ready?" Tommy says coming to stand beside me.

"I guess. Look, if I fall apart, take over, man, okay?" I am so nervous.

"You can do this. Is she ready?" Tommy looks around.

Katie looks even smaller back here. Brian is walking her to me. We are a musical family, and everyone sings well with the exception of my baby brother Guthrie. But Katie's voice is something to wonder at. I heard her really sing for the first time when I stopped by at the hospital to surprise Hannah a month ago. She was in for her chemo treatment, and Katie and her older brothers were with her. Apparently, they've been going in with Hannah and playing music and singing to her, and the other patients. Jackson and Jeb take turns playing the guitar and they all sing together. I was stunned. She just turned twelve, but her voice is so full and rich. I've never heard a child sing like that.

Later, back at home, I made her sing for me again and recorded her voice. When I played it for Tommy he was shocked.

"How old did you say she is?" He asks looking at me.

"It's Katie. You know Katie." Tommy is my brother-in-law, a bachelor, twice divorced, who often tags along with his sister and I when we go home to the ranch.

"Little Katie? Your niece, Katie?" His eyes are wide.

"That's what I said." I tell him.

"You should bring her along on the road! Of course, look out. I did that with a talented young guitar player once, and now he's center stage and I'm the back up singer." He laughs.

Which is all true. I started out playing guitar for him, but over time it turned the other way around. We don't mind it though. We love music and get a kick out of playing together no matter who is standing in the front.

He's the one who suggested Katie sing with me on the finale. He thought it make the song even better, and practicing with her, I can see he's right. We sound good together.

"She'll be there for the concert anyway." He pointed out.

"I'm not sure." I told him. "That's a lot of people watching her. She might freeze up. I wouldn't want to traumatize her."

"You'll be with her, and she'll be doing it for her Mama. You can push yourself to do a lot for your Mom." He said.

"Well, that's true." I agreed.

"Just be ready. If she sings with you, someone is gonna hear her. They are going to come for her." I nodded my head. The music industry is like a shark, always on the prowl for the next meal.

"You know what song you have to sing." He said studying me.

"Tommy, you know I can't." But I also know he's right.

"Listen this isn't about disappointing fans anymore. This should be about her. You wrote it for her." He said. "Don't make me turn Jules loose on you."

"Oh, no need for that. Julie is already trying to push me to sing it." Julie is Tommy's sister, and my wife. She always travels on the road with me. I love her and don't want to spend my time away from her. She used to sing backup for Tommy and will fill in if we are in a pinch, but she prefers to stand in the wings watching us - at least that is what she tells me.

The first song that I ever wrote that actually got recorded was a song I wrote for Hannah. I had just started touring with Tommy back then, and being on the road was hard for me. I'd never had that much time sitting on a bus, or with nothing to do. I spent a lot of time thinking, and once I started thinking, I recognized that when Adam brought Hannah home to us everything changed for the better. So I wrote a song, and Tommy heard it.

We played it on stage half way through the tour, and by the time he put it on his next album, it was number seven on the charts. For a while there, reporters would come to Murphys to get a shot of Hannah grocery shopping or taking the kids to school; the woman behind the song. She thought it was hilarious, but Adam not so much. Every concert people want to hear it; always.

But since she told us she had cancer over six months ago, I haven't played it once. I can't do it. The very thought of singing it makes me cry. We've taken a lot of heat for that. The band has stood beside me though, but it isn't easy to face disappointed fans, and the press always, always asks about it. All I've said is that my reasons for not performing "One Good Woman" are personal and no one's business. After tonight, everyone will understand why.

Katie and I are about to sing it right now. I am not sure I can do it. I wrote it back when I threw everything I had into each word of my songs. The songs I wrote back then were my very soul laid bare. I don't do that as much any more. This industry can make people jaded. I wrote a song for Julie, which she loves, but the critics didn't. I've learned that I need to hold something back and protect myself. There are thoughts and feelings that I keep just for me, and for Jules.

I hold Katie's hand tightly. Adam knows she's going to sing with me, but Hannah doesn't. And neither of them know about the pictures that are going to flash across the screen as we sing. Jules worked long and hard to put together the pictures that go along with the song tonight. She wouldn't let anyone see it, except Tommy. I'll be seeing it for the first time tonight, along with everyone else.

"If you get scared, just look at me. This is just you and me singing." I tell my niece. I wish I could hold her hand while we sing but I'll be playing my guitar. "They'll yell really loud when we first walk out because we made them think it was over. They'll calm down when I start talking." I remind her. We've been over this before.

"It's not like singing in church." She looks up at me, and I am struck again by just how much she looks like her mama. Katie sings in church all the time, and has since she was really little. I guess I had been there recently because I hadn't notice how rich and beautiful her voice had become.

"Yeah it is, hon. There's nothing holier than singing for love." And suddenly I believe I can do this; because it is for love; it is for Hannah.

The crowd roars as the band and I step out into the stage, Katie will be coming out in just a minute. She waits backstage with her Aunt Julie, and Uncle Brian. I lift my hand and wait for them to settle. It takes a few minutes but they do.

"You know why we are all here tonight and why this concert is special. I wrote a song a long time ago that came from a deep gratefulness in my heart, and that song led me to standing before you tonight. I wrote it for my sister. Like many of you, she's fighting a battle, and no one fights alone. I love my sister," I swallow hard but glancing to the wings I can see Julie and Brian waiting whispering to Katie but Julie nods at me, pausing to give me her support and love. "I love her." I repeat. "And I'll be damned if cancer's gonna take her from me." The crowd screams and cheers and behind me is a picture of Hannah and me, I don't even know where Jules found it but the two of us are laughing, and Hannah's smile is huge.

"I got a special guest to sing with me just now. There's a pretty little gal I'd like you to meet. This is my niece Katie." Katie steps out into the glare and to her credit she doesn't look frightened, but boldly crosses the stage to come to me. She stands beside me, looking at me not the full auditorium in front of us, she reaches for my hand.

"Ready, sweetheart?" I ask as though its just the two of us. She nods and I let go her hand and kiss her cheek, pulling my guitar around. She moves to the mic in front of her.

"Hannah Joy," I say using the name my brother gave to her. "Katie and I are singing this song for you; just for you."

I strum my guitar, and begin to play the intro and Katie stuns me with her confidence, poise and grace when she says, "We're singing for you, Mama, and for all you other fighters out there. We're singing it for you because you are beloved."

From our position on stage we can't see anything past the second row, but I can see a lady in the front and she is crying.

I lick my lips and turn to Katie, who smiles at me, and I realize Adam has a whole new problem on his hands; this child was born for the stage. Pictures of our family flash behind us. First it is just Hannah with the Brotherhood, but moves forward in time showing pictures of Adam and Hannah and all my nephews and Katie and Izzy.

I sing out the familiar lyrics. There was a time when I was sick to death of this song and wished I'd never written. Until recently I sang it at every single concert, year after year after year. But now, I feel that I can't sing it good enough, strong enough, to express what I am trying to say.

_This house is empty, four walls ain't enough_

_Got nothing but memories and dreams of_

_What I don't have yet_

_All this time, I'm just waiting _

_Looking for a healing that ain't come yet_

_There's nothing broken that can be fixed_

_Nothing lost that can't be found_

_All the darkness will become light_

_All my hurt and all my fear will disappear_

_With one good woman_

_With you now, our house is full _

_More than memories live here_

_Songs and laughter, love and joy_

_Just a smile, and I am healed_

_There's nothing broken that can be fixed_

_Nothing lost that can't be found_

_All the darkness will become light_

_All my hurt and all my fear will disappear_

_With one good woman_

_Hannah, you are strong enough to fight each and every day_

_And we will keep on loving you now and for always_

_Nothing will ever take you away from us_

_There's_ _nothing_ _broken_ _that_ _can_ _be_ _fixed_

_Nothing_ _lost_ _that_ _can't_ _be_ _found_

_All_ _the_ _darkness_ _will_ _become_ _light_

_All_ _my_ _hurt_ _and_ _all_ _my_ _fear_ _will_ _disappear_

_With_ _one_ _good_ _woman_

It was Katie's idea to rewrite the bridge, and we wrote it together. It was the part of the song I feared the most - Katie's writing is raw - her feelings true. She wanted the bridge to tell her mother we believe she can fight this fight and win. It was so pure and beautiful, I was hard-pressed to offer any argument against it, so we sang the song with her name and everything.

We can see the pictures on the side screens, and as we finish the song it ends on one of my favorite photos. It is one we took not too long ago, and the entire family is in it. Thankfully it is near the end of the song, timed so it flashes as I hit the last note. The picture shows all of us but added somehow, through the magic of the modern world is an old picture of my parents smiling . They've been placed perfectly into the picture so that it looks like they are standing to the side of all us and looking at us gathered there. I feel tears slide down my face and the crowd is screaming and clapping and cheering. If love and hope could cure cancer, this night we would have sent it away forever.

I reach for Katie's hand and she embraces me. The band behind us comes up front and we join hands as we always do, and bow while balloons descend all of them pink. It is the most perfect moment of my life, rivaled only by the day I married Jules. I only wish I could have seen Hannah's face. I hope it cheered her. I hope she felt the love.

"The phones already ringing man," Tommy whispers to me as we bow. Prepare yourself to be standing back there with me."

"Yeah," I grin looking at my niece. She is so proud, and she should be. She sang beautifully. She sang with all her heart for her mother.

"I wish I could see Mom." She says.

Hannah is weak from chemo, and had to lie down and rest in the middle of the show. Adam made sure she was back for the end though. And I've no expectations of seeing her until tomorrow, but as we step back stage, Jules grabs my hand as soon as the guitar tech takes my guitar.

"Daniel!" She says kissing me. "That was . . ." She hugs Katie to us. "Darlin'! You were so good! Weren't you scared?"

"I am now!" She says laughing. "I was thinking about her and it isn't until after I started thinking about the crowd."

"Come on," Jules says dragging both of us to the green room. Normally it is filled with people: band members, friends, contest winners, family, but right now it is filled only with McFaddens. We are all there with the exception of Guthrie and Jeanne. Jeanne is nearly eight months pregnant, and not up to this trip. We are cheered and embraced and then the crowd parts and I can see them sitting together on the couch. Adam rises and lifts Katie up into his arms.

"You did so well, Katie Bug." He kisses her. "You made us so proud!" He looks at me and tears pool in his eyes.

"Thank you, brother." He says his voice choked with tears. Still holding her he wraps his work-rough hand around my neck and pulling me to him, kisses my cheek. "Thank you, Danny."

Only my brothers get away with calling me that - really only Adam does and Crane. Brian tries it every now and then, but unless I'm lying in a hospital bed with pneumonia, I'll call him on it. Julie tried it once and laughed at my outrage, but she hasn't called me Danny since.

Adam releases Katie and she goes to her mother. Hannah sits on the couch and opens her arms to her daughter. Their faces, twin mirrors of beauty. Katie kisses her, and Hannah's smile is so big. She reaches out, and runs her fingers through Katie's long, red hair. Hannah is bundled up but you can still see how rail thin she is. Her head is wrapped in a beautiful silk scarf. She has a wig but never wears it. She says it is uncomfortable, and feels like lying. I like her better without the wig. Even bald, Hannah is beautiful, and it makes her eyes which are huge to begin with, look even bigger. I turn to her, but am suddenly shy.

"Daniel," She says. "I . . .that was so beautiful." Her eyes are filled with tears. "You are the sweetest boy still." And I want to laugh, I'm thirty-two years old.

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. "I love you, Hannah. Every word of that song is still true. There aren't words enough to really say it."

She smiles up at me, her beautiful eyes full of tears still, but also love. "I love you, Daniel. I do. You are such a good brother."

I study my sister's beautiful shinning face which is full of hope and love, and nothing else really matters. Adam takes his family back to the hotel - it is too late and too far to head back to the ranch. The roadies pack everything up while we go through the routine of meet and greet. I remember nothing of that night other than the warm embrace of my family and the look of love and joy on my sister's face.


	6. Jeb

I head out to the barn deciding that chores are much better than homework. Plus, my sister is kind of weepy today, and I can't manage her crying. It seems like between us three older kids, one of us is always having a bad day. It is like we take turns which is strange because we've never been that polite. Mom would be proud.

I don't like thinking about anything too hard these days. I sort of keep my head down and keep plugging along. Mom's nearly finished with chemo which is fine by me, and I guess the doctors keep saying good things, but the worst part is that even when it is all over, we won't ever really know one hundred percent. I'm not sure I can manage living with this worry.

My Uncle Guthrie says that if everything keeps going along like it is, I won't really have to worry. He tells me that in just a few months we will be able to start talking about remission, but I don't know. I know he's a doctor and everything, but I still feel pretty scared.

We aren't like other families. I found that out in kindergarten. We were singing some song for some reason or another. Most kids had their moms and dads, and maybe their grandparents in the audience. My parents came, along with my six uncles, their wives, and my big sister Izzy. They took up two rows. It was embarrassing. Half the audience were McFadden's. It is funny to think how many people hover over us. My brothers and my sister are always under the watchful loving gaze of someone which is something my father and my uncles didn't really have. Life turns around, I guess.

I round the corner to head out to the shed out back because I left my hat in there the other day, when I hear a sound and my stomach drops. I can see through the cracks in the wood planking, and my Dad is there sitting on the ground and he is weeping. I don't know what to do. I want to go in to where he is crying and I want to run away too. Instead I go to the barn and hope to find at least one of my uncles working. I skid to a stop in the doorway, and see both Uncle Brian and Uncle Crane.

"Ah! At last, we got some help!" Brian says glancing my way.

Uncle Crane looks up and seeing my face, stops what he's doing and says, "Brian!" He comes to me taking me by the arm.

"What's wrong?" He asks very serious.

"Dad's in the shed. I don't know what to . . . He's . . ." I find I am unable to form sentences.

"Okay." Crane says pulling me closer to him.

"I'll go." Uncle Brian says. "Don't worry, pal."

I watch him leave the barn and feel a little better, but I also feel guilty that I didn't help. I feel badly that I ran away.

"Well, looks like I'm down a helper." Uncle Crane says squeezing my shoulder. "Come on, you can help me."

I see my uncles every single day. Uncle Brian has a house next to us at the ranch, and we have dinner together all the time. Uncle Crane comes every day, and they often stay for dinner too. Uncle Ford lives in town, and we see him at least three times a week. Whenever my Uncle Daniel is home from the road, he and his wife live in the upstairs apartment. Uncle Evan shares our room, when he is off the circuit or sometimes he stays out in his trailer. We are surrounded by family, which is kind of funny because my Dad and my uncles were on their own for most of their lives. I've got an entire pack of grown-ups asking me how I am doing, or seeing if I need to talk. Jackson and I counted one time, and on just a normal Thursday before Mom was sick, we were hugged twenty-six times, from the time we got up until we went to bed - each. It was ridiculous. You can only imagine what it is like now.

I've never thought much about my grandparents being dead. It has always been that way, but lately I'm thinking about how that must have felt for my Dad and my uncles. Uncle Crane was just a little older than I am right now, and my Dad was only five years older than me, when he took on raising his brothers. I cannot fathom it. I'd never be able to manage all my siblings! I don't like thinking about it, but it keeps popping into my head. I can't imagine being without my parents. I don't want to imagine it, but looking at my Mom, it isn't hard to slip into thinking about it.

Later, as I step into the kitchen, I see my mom standing at the stove which seems so normal, except that she is bald, and weighs maybe eighty pounds. She and Aunt Caroline are cooking.

"Hey Mama!" I say to her.

"Hey yourself," She grins at me. "Tell me you cleaned the mud off your boots before you came in."

"No, ma'am." I say smiling at her.

"Jacob Brian!" She rests her hand on her hip.

"I took my boots off outside, Mama." I laugh and she shakes her head at me.

"You are trouble boy!" She says, and it is such a normal conversation that I want to cry.

"You hungry?" Aunt Caroline asks knowing the answer and setting out a glass of milk and a brownie for me.

"Thanks." I say sitting down.

"You seen your Dad anywhere?" Mom asks, and I set my brownie down suddenly no longer hungry. My mom doesn't see it because she's facing the stove, but my Aunt Caroline does.

"I don't know. Uncle Brian was with him, I think." I meet my Aunt's eyes, and she pats my hand.

"Well, I imagine they are up to no good then." Aunt Caroline says laughing. "You want to go pick us some apples? Your mama's got it in her head to make a pie."

"Dutch apple?" I ask looking at her. "I'll go right now!" And I start to dash out the door. My mother's dutch apple pie could make you weep - it is so good. I feel sorry for whoever I marry. My mom is such a good cook. She says it is because she's had so much practice trying to keep all my uncles fed.

"Take Henry with you, please." My mother asks me stopping me and forcing me to turn back around. "He's been moping around all day because Everett and Riley got to go to that birthday party.

"Sure, where is he?" I ask.

"Out front reading, I think." I step into the front room and find my eight year old brother reading.

"Hey Henry, I gotta go pick some apples for a pie. Why don't you come?" He looks up at me kind of startled. It is always like that when he is reading. He gets completely lost in his books. "What are you reading?"

He shows me the cover and I sort of take a step back. _Cancer and You_. "Henry, I don't think you should be reading that. It isn't for kids."

"Kids books don't tell you anything." He says rising and following me.

"Mom wouldn't like it. You are eight for pity sakes. Can't you read about Jack and the Beanstalk or something?"

He shoots me a look. Henry is really smart. He's like my Uncle Crane at least that's what my parents say. He likes to hang around my Uncle Crane too, and every time you pass them by they are talking about history, or space or something they read. I remind myself to tell Uncle Crane about Henry's latest book.

We pick the apples and skip some stones.

"You don't think she'll die, do you?" Henry asks me, and I'm not that shocked. Henry doesn't beat around the bush.

"The doctor's don't think so anymore. She's almost done with treatment."

"Finished." He corrects me echoing our father.

"Finished. After that, we won't have to worry about it any more." I tell him which is kind of a lie.

"That isn't true." He says seriously.

"Well, we just have to wait and see, I guess." I shrug.

"But she's different now." Henry says quietly.

"Her hair will grow back, Henry. You know that. It is just the medicine. It means it is really powerful."

"But she won't have a chest anymore." He says softly.

"No." I say. This is an awkward topic, and I have questions just like Henry does, but it is sort of impossible to talk about your mother's chest.

"Do you think it bothers daddy?" He asks me.

"Henry," I say feeling really uncomfortable.

"I know it isn't something to talk about, but I wonder, don't you?"

"Yeah." I admit. "I think Daddy doesn't care about anything except her being here with us. I mean if she got her face burned in a fire or something like that, you wouldn't care would you?"

He sits thoughtfully. "I'd be sad because she is so pretty, but I guess it wouldn't really matter. It would take getting used to, I guess."

"I must be like that." I tell him. "It doesn't matter that she's bald. She still looks pretty, don't you think?"

"Mama's beautiful." Henry says reverently. It is easy to forget he is eight when you are talking to him.

"You know, Mom can't make the pie, unless you bring her the apples." Jackson says coming up to us with Katie trailing behind him.

"We were just headed back." I tell him. "Where you been all day?"

"I was helping at Mr. Elkhurst's place. He's paying me to patch his fence. I told you this morning, Jeb."

"I forgot." I look up at my twin brother. "It isn't the money. It's Karen." I grin at him. Karen is Mr. Elkhurst's daughter who is in our class. There's nothing wrong with _her_ chest.

"I'm not arguing about that." He says with a shrug.

"You done being weepy?" I ask my sister which is my way of asking if she's okay.

"For this afternoon, I guess. As long as I don't have to look at your face too much" Which is her way of telling me she's alright.

I shake my head at her. We stand together, the four of us watching the sun begin to fade. It's winter so it fades pretty early.

"You think one day, when it is all behind us, we'll say, 'Remember how awful it all was.' and it will take us a second or two to remember what it felt like?" Katie asks.

"I sure hope so." Jackson says.

"They'll come looking for us if we don't get these apples in." Henry says and the four of us troop back to the house.

Everyone is already inside by the time we get back. My cousins are there, our Aunt Caroline and Aunt Molly, and Uncle Ford and Aunt Susan are there too. It is crowded and noisy, and my Uncle Crane breaks out the guitar, and even though my mom is trying to bake a pie, my father grabs her and dances with her in our kitchen. We are laughing, and everyone's dancing. I watch my aunts and uncles as they dance and spin. Aunt Molly is dancing with Jackson, and I lean over and say to Katie.

"This is the part we will remember years and years from now. You'll look at me and say, 'Remember the time everyone was dancing in the kitchen?''" She smiles at me.

"And we won't have to try to remember it. We will." She says, and then grabbing me by the hand she forces me to join the dance too. I am laughing because I am a terrible dancer and step all over her feet, but all the while I am watching my mother and father, as she dances resting her bald head against his strong shoulder.


	7. Adam 2

I used to have this really terrible dream over and over. It was all about my parent's crash; the one that killed them. I would dream I was behind the wheel of that big rig that smashed into them, and then I would see their dead bodies, and all my brothers would be dead too. Later after I married Hannah, she'd be lying there bleeding with everyone else. I looked it up, and I guess the dream is all about my fear of loss or some such nonsense. I think I had that dream because having your parents get killed when you are seventeen years old sucks like hell, and leaves you sort of jumpy about everyone around you. I spent a lot of my life worrying about who's next.

I sort of remember when Hannah first told me that she found that lump, but not really. I pushed it in the back of my head trying not to think about it until after the doctor's appointment. I didn't even go in with her. She said she didn't need me too, and I was stupid enough to think what she said was true. I hate that I didn't go. It wasn't like the doctor said she had cancer then, he didn't. He just ran some tests and set up the biopsy. That I went too, and at the time it was horrible, but compared to the road we've travelled down. That biopsy was a piece of cake.

It was later, when the phone call came that it all became real. We were waiting forever for those damn tests results, and the girl on the phone thought we'd already met with Dr. Mede, but we hadn't. So when she said, "Well, we just need to know which oncologist to send your biopsy results too." I dropped the phone. I think I might have screamed. I don't remember too much else. We weren't even in the same damn room. I was using the phone in the kitchen and Hannah was on the upstairs line. I fell to the floor and couldn't get up. I couldn't get my legs to hold me, and I felt terrible because I knew she was all alone just then. That's when Crane stepped into the kitchen.

I completely terrified him, and he said later he was scared to death he was gonna find Hannah or one of the kids lying dead somewhere because of some freak accident. Instead he found Hannah, halfway down the stairs, weeping. She couldnt talk either, other than to say my name. He picked her up, and carried her into the kitchen where I was, which pretty much sums up that poor girl's whole damn marriage; she is always surrounded by my brothers. He left us to each other and our crying, but later that night, after our kids and his kids were in bed, he and Molly showed up on our front porch. I always wondered later what they'd told their sitter.

"Talk." Was all he said as I opened the door. "I'm not leaving 'til you do."

"You better come in then." I said suddenly more tired than I had ever been in my entire life - and we had twins, so I know about tired.

"Sweetheart!" I called and she stepped in from the kitchen where she'd been baking. My girl cooks when she's worried, which is why, I've gained fifteen pounds in the last few months. Every pound that drops off of her seems to land on me. Seeing my brother and his wife, her shoulders sagged.

"I'm sorry, Hannah." Crane says looking so guilty. "But I need . . ."

"Sit down." She said and I was stunned at how steady her voice was. She sat down too, in the armchair, and I squished in beside her. My arm around her. I kissed her cheek, and sighed.

"You sure?" I asked her. "He's not our boss. We can wait if you'd rather."

"Adam," She said gently. "He'll know sooner or later, and imagine if you'd found him and Molly like that. Would you be able to sleep at night if they didn't explain it?"

She's got a point, but still I think it is unfair the way her life is everyone's business. I decided that it should be me that does the talking.

"We were waiting on some test results, and well, it wasn't real good news." I said finding my voice weak. "Hannah's got . . ." but I can't finish the sentence. I'm lost again in tears. I turned my face into her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I say.

She brushes her lips against my forehead. "Shhh." She whispers. "Adam, shhh." She clears her throat and I hear her say it; I hear her say it for the very first time.

"I've got breast cancer." She says. "It is pretty bad. They are talking about surgery and chemotherapy."

I looked up and saw Crane's face go white, and Molly moves to kneel in front of Hannah, wrapping her arms around my sweet wife. I'll never forget that look on my brother's face; it pierced me because I'd seen it before, and prayed I'd never, ever see it again. It hurt like a wound.

I don't remember much else of that night, until later, after Crane and Molly were gone. We crawled into bed so tired, but I couldn't sleep. I couldn't close my eyes. It was sort of like that damn dream I always had, I kept waiting for her to disappear. I wrapped my arms around her, and wanted nothing more to kiss her, to take her in my arms and make love to her like always, but touching her body, I could imagine the cancer there, growing inside her, and it scared me. I wept against her shoulder.

"Adam." She said softly. "Please, please don't cry. I can't . . ." She wrapped her arms around me, and I could feel that she was shaking. My beautiful bride was shaking with fear, and I could do nothing to protect her.

I sat up, wiping my eyes. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I'm sorry. I can't . . .You have to be okay. I'm not . . ." I sigh and could see in my mind's eye, myself at seventeen sitting in that damn hospital chair and the sheriff and the doctor walking toward me. "I'm not strong enough."

"I'm not leaving you." She said so fiercely. She moved sitting up in my arms and I wrapped my arms around her. "Tighter." She said soft as a whisper. I held her like that the whole night long. I'd start to doze off and lose my grip, but then I'd feel her reach and put my arms back around her. Neither of us slept. We talked from time to time. We cried. It was the worst night of our whole entire lives, up until that moment.

Cancer is a cruel bitch, I'll tell you that now. She tries to destroy everything in her wake. Crushing lives like some damn wrecking ball. We've had our share of bad days. We've had to face our children and tell them she might die. I had to tell my brothers she might die. I've watched her hair fall out, allowed the doctors to slice her body, leaving her questioning whether or not she's even a woman anymore. I've spent hours so broken, and knowing she is too but unable to help her - too weak to be there for her. I've been angry, frustrated, broken, lost, alone and so filled with grief I can't get my eyelids to rise. I suppose this the part where I point out some beautiful lesson we all have learned through all of this. But I'd be hard-pressed to do it.

Life is fragile? I knew that after some stupid big rig smashed into my parent's truck taking my childhood with it.

I love my wife and I'm lucky to have her? I already knew that, and believed it with all my heart. We weren't some couple on the edge who needed a wake-up call. I do love my wife. I am so lucky to have her. I didn't need ten months of torture to convince me.

God is the only one who can comfort us? Yeah, got that one too, when our parents died. Although, to be honest I'm a little bit ticked off at Him just now. I know it will work itself out, but seriously. It wasn't enough for Him to make me an orphan? This has caused a little extra tension between me and Hannah because she's clinging to Him like nothing else which comforts me. At least she has Him.

I am standing just in the side yard. I'd been stacking firewood, but looking up, I realize it is dark now. Tomorrow, Hannah has her last treatment. Her last one. I am so happy about it, and fearful too. Now, we will wait and hold our breath. I toss the last log on the pile and turn to go inside wishing that we could have a day of lightness. Everything is so heavy and intense lately. Our family is so big now, but that means there is always someone who is working through it. Any given moment, one of us needs understanding and support. I am tired. I am tired of worrying. I am tired of crying. I am even tired of holding people while they cry. I want to laugh. I want it to be like the old days, my wife healthy and running around chasing me with a garden hose while the kids attack me with water balloons.

I used to love this time of night. The kids in bed asleep, and just me and her. We would talk and laugh, and kiss, sometimes we'd fight over the stupidest stuff. I'd love to have a good fight over something really, really stupid right now. She's beautiful when she's angry. I'd love to step in the kitchen and see her there smiling at me with a piece of pie and hot coffee, but she's weary, so she'll be curled in our bed asleep. She'll sleep with her back to me, ashamed of her body, no matter how much I tell her that she's beautiful. I sigh and climb the steps slowly and push open the screen door.

"Hey, there, Rancher Man." She says. She's sitting at the table with a mug in front of her, and across from her, a mug for me. "That's the slowest job I've ever seen you do. I was just about to give up." She smiles at me and tears swarm my eyes.

"I was just thinking how nice it would be to find you here." I say clearing my throat.

"I'm declaring things back to normal." She says. "Well, after one more week of puking my guts out again."

"One week. That's not so bad." I tell her sitting down. "You threw up for five months straight with Henry."

"I think it was all those extra brain cells he's got." She smiles at me, and I reach across the table for her hand.

"That boy is smart." I tell her. "He was helping Katie with her math today. He must take after you."

"I wasn't first in _my_ class." She says, which is true. I was, but I'm not sure being first in your class is much help to a rancher, unless you are trying to impress your wife - which I almost always am.

She rests her chin on her hand, watching me. "I'm sorry, Adam." She says after a minute.

"What for? Did you poison this coffee?" I ask her. Her grin is so big that I can see her dimples.

"No, for all of this." She says.

"Don't you dare apologize." I say feeling a rage bubble up.

"Settle down." She says. "I just mean. Everything is so heavy. I miss laughing, don't you?"

I nod my head at her. "We'll laugh again, and it will be all the sweeter because we missed it."

"I hate how much it has changed things. I had no idea. I thought I understood but everything is different."

"Not everything." I tell her and I wish I could comfort her as I would have in the past; sliding my hands along her soft skin - comforting her with my body. She must be able to read my thoughts because she looks down and speaks softly.

" And I know you must miss . . ." She sighs. My girl is shy. There are some things she finds it difficult to talk about. "I know you think I'm beautiful, but I feel so . . .I want you to touch me but it reminds me too, that I am different. It has changed even this."

I study her thinking of a million things I could say, but I smile thinking of the one thing I can say that will bring a smile to her face.

"You can't even say it." I grin at her. "I've been married to you for nearly fifteen years. You've had six children and you can't even say it."

She blushes surprised. "Adam. . ."

"Say it." I tease her. We've had this conversation a million times. She opens her mouth but she can't say anything.

"You know you act like the shiest girl when it comes to talking about it," I say to her, "but honey, I've shared my bed with you for over a decade and you ain't shy at all."

"Ain't?" She raises her eyebrows at me - well, actually, she raises the spot where her eyebrows would be, if she still had them, but she doesn't.

"It's for dramatic purposes." I tell her, and we both laugh, and it does feel so sweet to laugh again. "Come on, you little puritan. I'm taking you upstairs. You are worn out." We head upstairs together and I look at the clock: 8:45. We've become the oldest people I know. I lay in bed beside her, my hand resting on her hip when she turns to me shocking me completely, and says in a very quiet voice, "Adam, I want you to . . ." I roll on my side to face her.

She hesitates, and I laugh at her. "Well, that was pretty damn close to saying it." I kiss the tip of her nose, which turns up just the tiniest bit.

"I can't say it, but it is what I want. I want us to be normal. I want us to be together."

"We are together." I say grinning.

"Adam." Her voice is irritated. She has her hands around my side, and I'm just teasing her now. I'm not sure if she really does want too, or if she's trying to prove to herself she still can. Or maybe she's calling my bluff to see if I really do find her beautiful - which I do. Whatever the case, I hesitate which she completely misreads, and I feel like a complete jackass for not recognizing what any slight hesitation would say to her.

"I'm sorry." She says softly and rolls away from me.

"Oh, no!" I say clicking on the lamp. "Hannah Joy, sit up and talk to me."

"I don't want to talk." She says.

"Too damn bad." I tell her.

"Adam," She says and I can hear both sorrow and shame in her voice. "You don't have to pretend for my sake. It's fine. We don't need to talk about it."

"Honey, don't be a brat. Sit up. I need to see your eyes. Hannah Joy!" I use my best I'm-the-Guy-In-Charge-Voice. Miraculously she sits up.

"You are reading it all wrong, darlin'. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want you doing something just to make me happy. I worry about those things."

"It's okay." She says, her eyes clearly telling me it it isn't.

"Honey, you are talking to me, remember? Me! There's a reason we got six kids! Remember when you were sick with the flu? Morning sickness? The time you broke your ankle? I'm not a man deterred." I grin at her.

I can see the slightest hint of a smile on her face so I continue. "If I lost an arm or a leg would it matter to you?"

"It isn't an arm or a leg." She says patiently.

"I know that." I tell her. "What if it were me? What if it were my breast?" Which is a little known fact we discovered, men can get breast cancer too. My chest would bare the same scars hers does if I had been in her place.

"It isn't the same." She says.

"No, I suppose that's true. We aren't the same person either."

"Yes, we are." She says.

"I didn't mean that. Are you trying to be difficult?"

"No. I'm just . . ." She sighs. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid it will ruin everything. I'm afraid it will ruin this. That you won't want me. I know you'd never say it. You love me too much for that, but that deep down, it disgusts you. I disgust you." Her eyes look down, and I'm hurt.

"Don't you even know me, girl? After all this time? First of all, when have I ever been able to hide one single thing from you? You know what I'm feeling before I do. So, there's no way I'd hide something as big as that. And second, who are you talking to anyway? _You_ disgust _me_? How dare you even say that! You came into this house - this pigsty of a house, cleaned it all up, and have put up with me being pigheaded and stubborn! You've seen me at my very worst and for some reason you are still standing beside me. And you are worried about me finding you . . .honey, I cherish you."

Well, so much for a light and tear free evening. She's crying now.

"I love every damn inch of you, including that weird sideways toe thing you got going on, down on that left foot of yours, including those scars, Hannah, even them. Those scars mean I get another day with you. And I'll take it. I'll take every single damn day I can get."

And then we are kissing and it isn't easy like before, but it is us. And we are together. Later, as she lays in my arms, her body towards me for once, my hand rests just above her chest. It rests in the spot my baby brother turned doctor told me that our heart actually sits, but he was wrong, my heart doesn't lie in that spot in my chest; my heart lies inside Hannah.

It is only ten o'clock by then, and I rise up out of bed to make sure everyone is covered in blankets. Every single one of our children kicks their covers off, just like Hannah does. I tuck them in, remembering all the times me and Brian tucked our brothers in at night. I've been a parent since I was seventeen years old, and wonder what it will be like when they are grown and I no longer have children in my house. I cannot imagine it.

As I am going back to bed, the phone rings and I grab it quickly.

"Hello?" I say wondering who would call us now.

"Adam!" Guthrie's voice is filled with joy. "She's here! 6lbs and 7 oz! You are a grandpa!"

We've got a funny dividing line in the family. I remained a brother to the oldest three, and became a father to the youngest two. Daniel sort of straddles the fence between the two, which might be why he and I struggled for so long. Of course Hannah argues we struggled for so long because we are both stubborn as mules. Guthrie is on the bottom end of that line so this baby is my first grandchild.

"Wait, let me get Hannah!" I say, and I drag the phone into our room.

"Honey," I say shaking her awake. "Sweetheart! It's Guthrie! The baby is here!" She sits up and smiles so big. I hold the phone between us.

"We are both on." I tell him.

"Oh, Guthrie!" She says. "I wish I could see her! I can't wait! As soon as I'm strong enough, we'll be there!"

"I haven't told you her name." He says.

"What did you name her?" I ask knowing they've kept it a secret all along.

"Hannah Joy. Her name is Hannah Joy McFadden." He says and we can hear his tears. "We named her after the most beautiful woman I have ever known."

Hannah covers her face with her hand, crying, but this time she is crying for joy, and for the sweetness of my baby brother's love for her. I struggle to speak feeling so grateful for this joyful moment, that she is here to share it, that she said yes to me all those years ago, giving my baby brother a mother at long, long, last.

"Hannah?" He says nervously. "Adam?"

"She . . . she can't talk just now, Guth." I say softly. "You . . ." I try to find the words to express how much he's meant to me over the years. That sweet baby boy, who wrapped his arms around me time and again giving me the strength to keep going. "You've always been the sweetest thing. You saved me, Guthrie. You know that? When I was exhausted and lost and just wanted to run away from it all, you would climb into my arms, and then I could keep going." I can't find words enough to say how much my firstborn son means to me, and to my wife, his mother.

"I can't wait for you to see her Adam. She's just the most beautiful thing." He says. "I can't believe it!"

And I can't either. My little baby a father! I know the joy he's feeling; the miracle of it. This tiny little thing made by the two of you together.

"I'm so happy for you, son." I say. "Your mom, she's so proud," I say glancing at Hannah who has almost got her joyful tears under control. She is listening again. "And that you named her like you did, well, we are so pleased. Go on and kiss Jeanne, and tell her how much we love her."

"And kiss little Hannah." My wife says. "Tell her Grandpa and Grandma love her so. Kiss her ten thousand times for us, Guthrie." Hannah says.

"I will. I'll call again later, okay?"

"That would be good. I'll let the Brotherhood know."

"I love you Adam." Guthrie says.

"I love you too, Guth."

"Hannah, are you still there?" Guthrie asks.

"Yes." Her voice is so joyful.

"I love you Mom. I can't wait until you hold her in your arms. I can't wait until she gets to know you. You can teach her how to bake dutch apple pie just like yours." He says.

"Well, not the first visit." Hannah says laughing. "I love you too, son."

I hang up the phone and come back into the room sitting beside her on the bed. Her smiles stretches across her whole entire face.

"Well, Grandma." I say with a grin.

"Well, Grandpa." She says and I lean in and kiss her.

"This might be our best week ever." She says when I finally release her. "No more chemo, and our first grandbaby. I want to go see her, Adam!"

"We will."

And in my heart I determine to see if I can't convince them to move closer. LA is too far away for my little Hannah. I haven't even seen her face, but already I know I don't want my baby granddaughter living in that big city. I want her to play among the fields and sheep like her father did. I want to lift her up into my arms under a bright blue sky with the mountains and hills standing tall behind us. I want to ride with her up to the old oak my grandfather planted, and show her the spot where I first stood with her grandma, the very day, she met her father for the very first time.

"Adam?" Hannah says as we lay in the dark together, her head is resting on my chest.

"Yeah?" I say half asleep.

"I love you."

"I can't tell you how relieved I am. I was afraid you didn't and I just got that tattoo . . ." I tease her.

"You are such a jerk sometimes." She says but her voice is so loving.

"I love you too, darlin'. For always and even after that." I recognize I sound like one of those sappy cards, but it is so true.

We are the same person, Hannah and I. We have the one heart that we share, and anything that happens to me, happens to her. If she's fighting cancer, well, then so am I.

***7***

I go with her for this last treatment. She'll go in today, and then we'll be done with it forever. I sit across from her, talking and laughing with her, as that damned poison drips into her. Later, I'll clean up after she is sick, and sleep on the floor beside her because the chemicals make even the slightest movements next to her painful, but I can't really bear to sleep all the way in another room away from her; she is my bride.

I glance over and see a new couple, one we haven't seen before. It must be their first treatment, and my heart just breaks. I catch the eyes of the husband/boyfriend/whatever and he looks away, no doubt horrified at Hannah's pale, bald, skeleton thin frame. I want to say something to him, but we are strangers. I want to tell him, that it _is_ going to change everything. He won't look at her the way he used to, I certainly don't.

I used to look at my beautiful girl, overwhelmed by my luck. I used to look at her and think about her beautiful body. I loved her spirit too, but my eyes saw her body first. Now, I look at her and see so much more than that. She is still beautiful, I wasn't lying when I told her that, but I see beyond it too. She's strong. I don't know anyone who is stronger than her. She's brave, and fierce. She is so good too - even at her sickest she is polite, kind, thoughtful to those around her. I can't believe she feared that she would disgust me. I am in awe that she would chose to love me. She is where my heart and soul reside.

The newest husband to join this horrible club and I stand getting coffee at the same time, and I open my mouth even though we are complete strangers.

"It is pretty horrible." I say to him, which isn't much in the way of a greeting. "It's hard because you love her so, and want to fix it or make it stop, and you can't. It makes you feel powerless, and ashamed that you can't protect her from it. I mean, that's what we are supposed to do, aren't we? Keep them safe."

"I . . ." He opens his mouth to speak.

I reach up and put my hand on his shoulder. "You can make it. Don't give up, and don't pull away from her - even if she tries to shove you out. You can do this. If she can sit in that chair, you can hold her hand." I tell him.

"Yeah." He says. "Is your wife gonna be okay?" He asks looking at Hannah who has fallen asleep.

"It's her last treatment." I say with a grin. "We started this ten months ago. You need to make sure you talk to people. Do you have family? You got any brothers?"

"No. Well, a brother, but we aren't . . .we don't talk much."

"That's a shame." I say to him. "My brothers, well . . . we got through it all together. My name's Adam and that's my wife Hannah. I'm writing down my number and you call me, if you need. Don't feel embarrassed or worried about it, you call me." I don't know why I feel so burdened for this young man. "I'll step in if you haven't got a brother."

"We just met, well, actually we haven't even really met." He says looking at me surprised.

"Brother, I've been where you are. You won't make it alone." I tell him.

"My name's Paul." He says. "That's my wife Beth." He says. "We've been married four months. We got back from our honeymoon, and she found a lump."

"One hour at a time, okay?" I tell him. "That one day at a time crap is too overwhelming. Live through this moment and then you fight your way through the next one." He nods at me, and I write my number down from him. He walks back to his wife, and I sit down next to Hannah.

"Thanks for talking to him." Julie, one of the nurses says as she comes over to check Hannah's vitals. "They are so young. His family is all on the east coast, and her mother died a few years back. Her father went to prison when she was just a baby."

"Oh, that's so sad. They've got no one." I say.

"Well, compared to you folks, most people have no one." She smiles.

"That's true." I grin up at her. "Thank you for everything Julie." I say tears filling my eyes. "You've been so good to her."

"Your wife is the sweetest patient I have ever had. She is so sweet and thankful. But I got to be honest, I will be so glad not to see her here anymore." She smiles at me.

"Me too." I say. I glance over at the young couple again.

"No family at all? Aunts or Uncles at least?" I ask Julie.

"No, after her father went to jail, her family sort of shut her and her mother out."

"What did he do?" I ask without thinking. Of course, she's already told me more than she should.

"Manslaughter, I think. He was driving a big rig and killed some people. I guess he fell asleep at the wheel."

I turn white and my legs turn to jelly. I sit down hard, nearly missing the chair behind me.

"Adam?" Julie says.

"What is her last name? I need to know her maiden name! What is it?" I am trying to slow the beating of my heart but it races wildly.

Hannah wakes up then. "Adam? Julie what's wrong? Is something wrong? I don't feel bad."

"No, honey." I tell her realizing I'm scaring her. "You are fine. It isn't that." I turn back to Julie. "Please," I say, "Can you ask her. I can't walk over there and I'm afraid of the answer."

"Wait," Julie says. "How did your parents . . ." She's beginning to put the pieces together now.

All the nurses know about me and my brothers. Whenever they told Hannah what a good husband I am, she would tell them that they didn't even know the half of it, and then they'd listen to her stories of me and Brian raising the boys.

"What's going on?" Hannah asks impatiently.

"That girl over there. The one who is brand new. Her dad . . . " I can't even bring myself to say it.

"He was in jail for manslaughter." Julie tells Hannah. "His big rig hit a truck and . . ."

"What?" Hannah asks, sitting up and we can see her heart race increase on the monitor. "Is her last name Witter? Oh, Adam!" She's the only one I ever told about my anger and hatred of that family. My head knew it was just a mistake; an accident but my heart never cared about logic. I told her of my secret fear that I would bump into him or his family some day. I feared what I would say. I feared what I would do.

Hannah rises and dragging her IV pole with her crosses the room to where they sit. I want to stop her, but can't even get my legs to move. Julie follows. "Wait."

"Hello." She says and I listen from where I sit.

"Oh, this is Hannah, honey." Paul says. "Her husband was the one who talked to me. He was really encouraging." Paul says cheerfully looking up at Hannah. "This is her last treatment."

"Is your maiden name Witter?" Hannah asks without any hesitation. Her voice is direct, but not harsh.

Paul's wife turns her head slowly, and I can see her big blue eyes. She looks so frightened. It is her first day of chemo, and I remember again the pity and compassion I felt earlier. I rise and crossing the small room, stand behind Hannah, one arm around her back.

"It doesn't matter, hon." I say to her. "Come and sit back down."

"My name's Hannah." She says gently. "Hannah McFadden." The girl's eyes widen at the name, and her eyes fill with tears.

"Oh!" She says looking at me. "You are one of the boys!"

"Yeah." I say. "It has nothing to do with you though." I tell her, and I know that it is true.

She is no more responsible for the decisions her father made, than I am for my own father deciding to take my mother out on that night. I had feared this moment for so long and now that it has come, I'm filled not with hate or rage as I had feared but rather compassion and pity. I can see that we were both wounded by it; we both bear the scars.

"It does." She says. "I'm so sorry. It wasn't until I was older that I read about it." She said. "I was a baby. I didn't know. I just knew he'd done something bad."

"It was a mistake." I tell her. "That's all. We aren't angry at him. Least not now." I say trying to be honest.

"What is going on?" Paul asks confused.

"It was his parents." She says to her husband. "My father killed his parents." His eyes grow wide. We stand staring at one another.

"You don't have to. . ." I say but can't really finish my sentence. "We found our way. We are, all of us, happy."

"I am so sorry." She says and with such intensity. Everyone around is watching this exchange.

"He didn't mean to. He should have stopped to sleep. But he didn't. He wasn't evil." Which is something I've told my brothers over and over. Only Brian and I know his name I didn't want the little guys growing up bitter.

She is crying and nods her head as her young husband reaches for her hand. I reach out tentatively and gently squeeze her arm. "It was long ago. Let it go." And I feel it lift off me. I feel so light; so free.

She nods her head unable to speak as tears roll down her face. She is so young and has such a hard road ahead.

Finally I say to Hannah, "Come on, babe, you should sit down." And she complies but not before reaching out and squeezing Beth Witter's hand.

"You'll get through it." She tells her.

We turn to go, but I look back over my shoulder at the two of them who are as shocked as Hannah and I. Cancer is the great equalizer, I guess. My beautiful wife has it, had it, and so does the daughter of the man who struck a wound in my family so deep that we still feel it's scars. I meant what I said though, it has nothing to do with her. I can see though, its a burden she's carried for a long time and I know how that feels. I glance back over my shoulder at them.

"You call me, Paul. I meant what I said. You need folks around you."

We sit back down, and Hannah reaches out a hand to touch my face. "You are the best man I've ever known." She says.

"It isn't her fault." I say shrugging my shoulders. "And hate doesn't do me any good."

"Still." She says.

"Don't tell the boys about his." I tell her. "What are the odds?"

"A million to one, I'd say." She looks at me. "Do you think I got sick for this; for this moment right now?"

"God, I hope not." I say to her.

"I don't mean that Adam." She says. "It would be worth it to me, if it brought you peace. If it gave you healing."

"Nothing would make it worth it. Nothing." I say.

She smiles at me. "Too much today. I can't keep up. I'm a grandma, and she's the daughter of the man who crushed your heart. A girl has a limit."

"You forgot last day of chemo." I tell her.

"Oh, that too." She reaches for my hand. "What are you thinking?"

"How much I want to kiss you." I say honestly. "How much I miss my mom and dad."

"You carry them with you, honey." She says looking up at me. And it is the most normal conversation we've had in months and months. It is a conversation we've had a million times before.

"We carry them with us." I correct her.

"Yeah." She agrees. "They live in us, and our children."

"And our grandchildren." I add, bringing a smile to her face.

Later, we leave that place. We step out into the afternoon sunshine, and Hannah pauses, leaning on my arm. We've got about forty-three minutes until she'll start feeling sick, enough time to get her home. A soft breeze blows, and she closes her eyes smiling as it slides across her skin.

"Sweetheart," I say knowing how much time we have. "We better get you home."

"The air is so sweet." She says. She opens her eyes, and smiles up at me. "It won't come back, Adam. I know it. This is over now." She says, and my eyes fill with tears.

"Knock it off, darlin'." I tell her. "I can only manage so much." She smiles and I lead her to the old truck. We drive home together, her head resting on my shoulder.


	8. Hannah 2

It is late morning and I am alone in the house, well almost alone. Little Hannah is with me, so I am joyously happy. I hold her up to the mirror so she can see her own face. She is only five months old and a little young to recognize herself just yet, but she is so smart! I think she might be the smartest little baby I've ever seen, but Adam is quick to point out I might be slightly influenced by the fact that she is our first grandchild. I don't know, though, her eyes are so bright; you can see her thinking.

I look at our reflection. Her face is framed by beautiful red curls - which Guthrie credits to both his mothers. Adam's mom had beautiful auburn hair, and I used to have curls which I complained about, but how I miss them now! We've pointed out to Guthrie that it is impossible for Little Hannah to look like me as we are not genetically linked.

"I know that!" He told me. "I am a doctor."

"I'm starting to doubt how hard you studied." I grin at him mischievously.

"Hannah!" He sighs. "Some things go beyond science. You are my mother, too."

My own hair is coming back, but it is no longer the deep chestnut brown, but is darker, and the curls that I always complained about are gone. I had wished for straight hair as girl, and now that I have it . . . I suppose that's a warning to be very careful for what you wish for!

Two weeks ago, my dearest, secret wish arrived unexpectedly. I was just about to see if I could gather everyone for dinner when I heard a knock at the door. I was stunned to swing the door wide to see Jeanne, Guthrie and Hannah.

"Guthrie!" I shouted startling poor Hannah.

"Hi, Mom." He said calmly. "Got space for us for dinner?"

"Yes!" I hugged them and lifted little Hannah from Jeanne's arms. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call?"

"We were wondering if we could stay in the apartment upstairs." Guthrie said stepping into the house immediately swarmed by his nephews.

"Henry," I said. "Go get Dad. He was in the barn." Henry smiled up into my face and sprinted down the steps.

"Of course you can! But why . . ."

"Well, our house isn't ready yet?" Jeanne says smiling.

"What?"

"Guthrie!" Adam says stepping into the house. He hugs Guthrie and kisses Jeanne's cheek. "Hannah, you better share that baby with me or its gonna get ugly."

Reluctantly, I pass our granddaughter to him. He coos and kisses her.

"What house?" I ask again.

"The old place next to the Carter's property - that little blue house up the road apiece." Guthrie says.

"What about it? I heard someone from the city bought it!" Adam asks lifting Little Hannah into the air. She squeals with delight.

"We lived in the city." Jeanne says pointedly with a smile and I can hardly contain myself. "Guess who's the new oncologist at County?"

I am filled with so much joy. I laugh and cry and hug them both. My beloved son home where he belongs. My sweet granddaughter will be free to run and play in the same fields and meadows her father did. I wander around the house with the biggest smile on my face, and every time Adam sees it he just laughs and kisses me.

"You." He says.

"Me." I agree.

As for the rest of it, time will tell, but I have such a confident peace in my heart. So far, all the tests agree. We are finally after eleven months of shear, unending terror, able to settle back down into a normal life; but it is a new normal. For we have all been changed. Some of the changes are good, but not all of them, but they are every single one, a part of who we are now.

But I am filled with such gratitude. I am thankful to stand in my kitchen cooking for my family again. My taste buds are shot to hell from the chemo, and I think my cooking has suffered for it, but now Katie or often Jeb will step in and help.

"No, Mom." Katie will say with a grin. "It needs some of that onion powder, remember?"

I'll smile at her, even though inside I am a little sad. It is hard to need help with something that once filled me with such confidence. I have always been a good cook, and it was something I held tight to in those early days when the Brotherhood hadn't decided about me just yet. At least then, I could offer them good food. Of course, no one seems to care - which is part of the new normal, too. I couldn't have imagined a situation in which Brian wouldn't have teased me about messing up a stew in the past. Now, he just smiles, and kisses my cheek saying, "Ah, don't worry 'bout it Sis. Caroline and I will fix it."

I'm even grateful for this mountain of laundry I face each day. There were days where I didn't have the strength to put on clean clothes, let alone wash some. I smile as I load my children's never-ending pile of clothes into our machine remembering standing in front of it as a young bride overwhelmed by the sheer height of the pile of dirty jeans, and by the strong smell of cows and cowboys.

And I am so grateful that my husband's eyes still hold mine which as much tenderness and love, as ever. I am grateful that though we are changed, we are changed together. We take each other as we are just as we did all those years ago in that little white chapel.

He steps in the house now and seeing me with Hannah, he smiles.

"Come on." He says. "Bring our girl. There's a calf being born!" He grins at me, and I think of pointing out to him that at five months she is unlikely to understand the birth of a calf, but follow him to the barn.

We watch as the calf is born and then stands on wobbly legs, her giant eyes surveying the world around her. She nuzzles close to her mama's belly looking for food. Adam turns to me and smiles.

"See that, Little Hannah." He says in the same sweet, gentle voice he used with Guthrie when he was young. "She already knows that's her mama." But Hannah is asleep in my arms, unimpressed with this great miracle.

He wraps his arms around me, and kisses my cheek. "I always feel happiness and hope when I see a new calf." He says. He says it every single time one is born.

"I know." I say looking up at him.

We carry Hannah to the house and lay her down. I expect Adam to go back out to work. He's short-handed today with everyone helping Guthrie and Jeanne move into their house, but I find him sitting on the couch looking at an old photo album. It holds pictures of his parents and his brothers when they were young.

He never liked having those pictures around - he always found it too painful. He kept them locked up but I pointed out that his brothers might appreciate seeing them, and they did - especially Ford and Guthrie who have almost no memory of that time. Later, our own children studied them, and would ask him questions about their grandparents, long buried but still so much a part of our lives. Adam never looks at it though.

I sit beside him. "What?" I ask.

"I was thinking of Paul and Beth." He says. Paul has called Adam twice and both times it is out of absolute desperation; a feeling we are all too familiar with. And of course, my good, good husband has never hesitated to help and support him. I pointed out to him that the fact that he is so kind and good, is a sign that he should give up his fight with God, and just accept that he is a man of faith.

"What has that got to do with anything?" He asked me.

"No one could forgive like you have, in their own strength, Adam." I pointed out. "You believe. You were just hurt and angry. Let it go, Adam J. Stop fighting with Him. People get sick." I said to him.

"Hannah," He said somewhat exasperated. "It has nothing to do with nothing. Forgiving him, was just the right thing to do."

"Yes, I know it because someone wrote down a long time ago that forgiveness important." At the time, he shook his head at me, but I know he's made his peace. He sings in church again, and has stopped grinding his teeth every time the pastor speaks.

I study him now. "Why are you thinking of them?"

He hesitates, and puts an arm around me.

"I don't think it is going to end like our story." He says sadly. "She isn't responding well." I nod, chewing the corner of my lip. "And I was thinking of all that anger, I used to have. I'm glad I didn't meet them then. I was just a hurt boy, you know?"

He has tears that shine in his eyes, which surprises me.

"I know." I say softly. "But what is it?"

"It was twenty-five years ago." He says softly, not meeting my eyes. "Twenty-five years ago, tonight. I was sitting on this couch, angry that I had to babysit and dreaming of the freedom of college, and then the sheriff stepped onto our front porch with his wife at his side."

I open my mouth surprised, and my vision is blurred by tears, but a part of me is so grateful that this pain he feels right now, has nothing to do with me.

I remember now, he did mention it on the twentieth anniversary, but after the fact. He'd been unbelievable grumpy that day, and so short-tempered. Riley was just one, and was getting over a bad cold, so I hadn't really slept much. I was short on patience. By the time bedtime rolled around I was irritated with his inexplicable crankiness and rolled away from him in bed, glad to have the day end, but I awoke to the sound of him crying. After he told me, I felt like such a jerk for not being more perceptive.

"I can't believe how long ago it is." He says now, his shoulders slumped. "I can't believe I've lived so much of my life without them. I keep thinking that they know you, and the kids. It feels wrong that they don't." He sighs.

"They'd be amazed at all the McFadden's now." I say reaching out and rubbing his cheek with the back of my hand.

"Because of you." He says looking at me.

"Me?" I laugh. "I'm responsible for adding seven - eight if you count me."

"Oh, but, you mothered thirteen and helped them grow strong enough to build lives of their own. You set it all in motion, girl."

He gives me more credit than I deserve because he is blinded by love. We argue about it all the time. Well, we used to argue about it all the time until cancer cast a shadow over our lives darkening our vision.

"Adam," I sigh.. "What about you? What about Brian? You raised them, not me."

"What about Brian?" He asks. "He never would have married Katie without you. He was terrified. You gave him courage. And you helped him heal so that he was ready when Caroline came."

"Can I walk on water, too?" I tease.

"It wouldn't shock me, none." He grins. He's got an arm locked tight around my waist, his other hand resting on my stomach. It used to be that is all it would take; his hand sliding over my skin. This would be one of the changes that isn't good. It is no longer easy for us. It takes thought and determination. It takes lots of talking.

"You willing for a little kissing, girl?" He asks raising his eyebrow at me with a grin. "Before you answer, I should mention I'm an orphan." He says pleading his case. "And also my wife has cancer."

"Had." I correct him and he nods. "I wish things were . . ." I hate that this has changed.

"Oh, Hannah Joy," He says. "Of course this is different - we are different too. I don't care. I'd love for you to be my easy girl, but I love you - _you_! Not just your body - not just your breasts. _You._ Besides, we are both determined." He grins at me.

"Good thing we are so stubborn." I wrap my arms around him and think of all the times he's kissed me - starting with his first awkward kiss.

"Good thing." He agrees pausing, his forehead resting against mine. "You are the only one, Hannah. You are my only one." He says and lifting me in his strong arms, he continues to kiss me as he carries me upstairs where we stubbornly struggle together to adjust and overcome this change. And like all the other troubles we face, we manage it, together.

***7***

The coffin is a lovely rose color - perfectly feminine. It is odd that a coffin can be beautiful, but somehow it is. It fills me with such sadness to think of how he picked it out with so much love in his heart, for a wife he can no longer hold close to him.

I sigh softly and wonder why it is that some survive and others do not. It is impossible to understand why she lies there, and I stand here. I glance up at Adam. His jaw is set; a firm line. An outsider would mistake this look for stoic coldness, but I know better. We will leave this funeral, and return home to our children. We'll sit down at a crowded table and eat dinner. We'll force them to do their homework, and then sing songs as darkness falls, and then tuck each one into bed. And then, he'll turn to me, and whisper all his secret sorrows; all his secret fears. He is a cowboy, after all, and a cowboy doesn't do his crying at the campfire - he saves it up 'til he's home with his girl.

I study Paul, who looks so lost and alone. They were married for seven months, and spent four of them battling cancer. I don't know how they managed it. If I had been sick in those early days, I don't know how Adam and I would've fared. It took me a long time to know him, and understand him. It would have been so much harder in those first days.

Adam glances down at me, and reaches for my hand. His strong fingers hold mine gently. I look up into his eyes and smile, leaning against his side. The service begins, and beautiful words reach out to this small gathering, and I wonder if Beth has been reunited with her parents. I wonder if they are looking down at this small gathering here; if Beth's father can see Adam standing tall, and strong at my side. Can he remember the damage he caused? Does he know, he forever marked this good man with a fragile heart, and left a wound that each brother still bears even now? Can he see that in spite of his error; in spite of his wounding, they have all grown up strong, loved, and happy? Does he stand side-by-side with Adam's parents, looking down on all of us, as they turn to him and with forgiving smiles say, "See, they are well. Our love built them strong. McFadden's can endure; they can thrive."

It is mid-morning when we step out into the sunshine, and I can feel a gentle breeze lift my baby fine, dark, straight hair, and it brings a smile. I had forgotten what it felt like to have the wind blow through your hair. It feels wonderful. Adam sees my smile.

"What is it? You look like . . ." He hesitates. "You look an angel just flew over you."

"Maybe one did." I grin at him. "The wind feels good. I can feel it blowing through my hair." I say and wrapping my arms around him, I kiss him.

We leave after the service, and ride in silence. He is lost in his thoughts, and I don't press him. He'll open his mouth to speak when he is ready. I lean my head against his shoulder, and he hums softly.

"We are lucky, girl." He says after a long time, pausing to kiss the top of my head. "We are damn, lucky."

***7***

Everyone is home. Adam is beside himself with joy. It is funny to think of how young he is still, and yet, he acts the part of Grandpa well. He is happiest when all his boys are home, and under his watchful eye. We fill the house. The original seven brothers, six wives, fifteen nephews and nieces, and one very shy girlfriend, who Evan has brought home to us. It is the first girl he's ever dragged into this disaster we call the McFaddens. She looks terrified, and I can't blame her. We are loud, and not one of us is mild-mannered, except maybe Henry. We gather around piles of food, some of it cooked by me, with the help of my children. As we sit down to eat, I am sure the noise can be heard clear across all the fields. My husband stands, trying to get everyone's attention, but it is nearly impossible.

"Dump the table, Adam!" Crane shouts over the din, and his brothers and I laugh.

"That worked for Hannah!" Evan agrees.

"What?" Jackson asks.

"Your Mama never told you that story?" Brian asks. "Hannah, I can't believe you left that one out!"

"I didn't want them getting any ideas." I say.

"You dumped the table?" Jeb asks. "I don't believe it! Her?"

"Yep." His father laughs. "Your uncles kept ignoring her, and you know Mama. She will not be ignored." He winks at me.

"I needed to get their attention." I say defending myself.

"You did." Ford says laughing. "You also broke our best bowl."

"Well, that wasn't intentional." I tell him, but even after all these years, I do feel guilty about that.

"Alright, settle down everyone! I don't want to dump this table. There's some good looking food here." Adam says and the room gets surprisingly quiet. "We just wanted to say how thankful we all are to be here, together; all of us." He clears his throat.

"It's not Thanksgiving!" One of the kids shouts and Adam laughs.

"Everyday is Thanksgiving from now on." He says looking at me. I blush. "So lift up your glasses to my bride, Hannah Joy McFadden, the original." He says with a glance at little Hannah who has fallen asleep in her father's arms, evidently less than impressed with her Grandfather's speech. "You are the sweetest girl since the dawn of time, and we love you, girl, with all our hearts."

My eyes fill with tears as all around me, my family lifts their glasses and I hear a chorus of voices saying, "We love you!" It is a moment of sheer and utter bliss. I tuck it away in my heart to keep for all time. The look of love on the faces of my brothers, their wives who are my sisters, my own sweet children, my nephews and nieces. I am surrounded by family. I am surrounded by love. I look up to meet my husband's gaze, and he winks at me. I cannot help but grin, and blush again. I feel down to my very soul a wave of gratitude. I am the luckiest girl on this whole earth, and I don't know why.

We eat, talk, laugh, and sing so late into the night. No one wants to leave, and no one does. Even Brian and Caroline stay, not wanting to cross the yard to their own house. Our living room is covered in cousins - as they decided to have a huge slumber party. You can't even walk across the floor. Each of the brothers have taken up a room for themselves and their wives. Evan is sleeping downstairs with the cousins - and all of the brothers are teasing him.

"Too chicken, huh?" Brian nudges Evan in the ribs.

"Afraid Dad'll find out." Ford grins at him.

"He's just scared of Mom!" Crane says laughing.

"Shut up!" Evan says. "This is why I never bring a girl with me. You are gonna terrify her!"

His girlfriend is adorable, but looks at all of us with wide frightened eyes.

"Come on, Ashley." I tell her. "We'll find you a spot." We eventually tuck her in with Little Hannah. "Good night. If you can survive this crew, then there isn't anything you can't face." I tell her.

"He said he had six brothers, but it seems like so much more in person." She says nervously.

"Believe me, I know." I smile at her. She's a pretty girl, and young. He must be a good seven years older than her. "It just takes getting used to, is all." I say patting her hand.

"Everything he said about you is true." She smiles at me.

"What did he say?" I ask sitting down beside her on the bed. I am intensely curious. Of all my brothers, Evan has been the hardest to read. He isn't a talker, and is gone for long stretches of time.

"Oh," She blushes. "Just that you are smart, funny, kind and beautiful. He always goes on about you. I was scared to meet you. He looks up to you so much."

"Hmmm." I say. "He's so quiet. He's never told me any of that. He never talks. I love him, but getting him to say anything is a struggle."

"I know!" She agrees. "This whole time you've been sick, it has been such hard work! He'll mope around and I've got to push and push to get him to finally talk."

"Adam can be the same way." I sigh and smile at her. "But I've worn him down. Give it ten years or so."

"Oh, well, we . . ." She blushes and I laugh.

"Evan might not talk, but I can read my brother. This won't be the last time you are here with all of us." I rise and pat her cheek lovingly, thinking what a pretty bride she'll make.

I walk down the hall and can hear voices - from the bedrooms, from down below where the children are NOT sleeping. I walk the few steps down that leads to our bedroom, and see my husband contentedly sitting on the step just outside our door listening to all the children. I sit beside him, and he drapes his arm around me.

"Hey, there darlin'." He says kissing my cheek.

We gaze down at the next generation of McFaddens. They laugh and giggle, and tease. They do everything but sleep.

"It's hard to believe." He says looking at me. I nod and rest my head on his shoulder.

"Wouldn't they be proud." I say to him, and he kissed the top of my head, which has a very short covering of hair.

"They would." He says with a sigh. "I was thinking of those first few days and weeks, after we lost them. We all slept down there, in the beginning. I think maybe for the first month or so. None of us could bear to separate at night. So we stayed down there together. Of course, I didn't sleep much. I'd sit up and watch them, wondering what I was gonna do; wondering how I was gonna manage."

"I wish I'd known you then." I smile at him.

"You'd have been thirteen, darlin'." He grins at me. "I would've gone to jail."

"A small detail." I laugh.

He turns his gaze back to our children and nephews and nieces who are starting to settle down, a little. No doubt they know we are watching and are only pretending, plotting something for when we are all finally asleep. Adam sighs, and rises slowly. He reaches out to me with his hand.

"Come on, girl. Time for bed."

"Yes, Dad." I say with a grin, and he shakes his head at me. I rise and we turn to our room, but he pauses before going in.

"I know you are up to something. You aren't the first pack of outlaws I've watched over. Just remember you're replacing anything you break, and cleaning anything you mess up." He warns and we can hear a low giggle from them.

"I told you!" I hear Henry say.

"Go to sleep." I say but I am smiling.

Adam pauses to look at them all one last time, before we go to our room. "Aren't you happy you said yes?" He asks me.

"I'm still on the fence a little." I tease him.

"Good Lord, woman! What's it gonna take? I give you this whole ranch, all those beautiful cows, not to mention, fifteen head of strong bulls, mountains of laundry, twenty acres of vineyards, six children - including twins, the saddest looking pickup you'll ever see, and six brothers! What more could anyone want?"

I consider thoughtfully. "I don't have a dog." I tell him. "Shouldn't every rancher's wife have a dog?"

"You don't like dogs." He says.

"That isn't the point. You asked me what more could _anyone_ want, and anyone could want a dog."

"You are insane. You know that right?" He says.

"I'm not disagreeing with you. Ask me what more _I_ want." I look up at him.

"What more do _you_ want?" He asks me.

"Nothing." I say with a smile. "Not one damn thing." I say with a laugh and disappear into our room.

"Hannah Joy! You watch your language!" He says following me in, shocked. "There's babies down there listening to you!"

We laugh together, my husband and I, and it is the sweetest, most beautiful thing - and it will be for a long time to come.


	9. Prologue Revisited: Adam

1982

I find her on the porch, again, and hope this time she isn't crying. I'm realizing that I'm not too good at the talking and romancing part of this. It is obvious to me now that I should've told her a few things _before_ she married me. Even so, I don't regret it. I have never, ever been so happy - not since I was a boy; before all that heartache.

She's sitting on the front step, wrapped up in one of my flannel shirts. It makes me smile to see her stealing one of my shirts, and I find it a good deal more intoxicating than some fancy nightgown - although, I don't mind those none.

I sit beside her, and glance nervously, relieved that she isn't crying.

"You alright?" I ask her.

"Yes." She says softly, wrapping her arms around mine, and resting her head against my shoulder.

"Kind of a strange honeymoon, I guess." I say to her.

"Well, I do like the fair." She says smiling at me.

"Did we go to a fair?" I ask her. "I just remember you starting some kind of fight."

"Me?"

"Yeah, honey, you've got a serious right hook."

"You'd be wise to remember that." Her laughter is like the moonlight, spilling all around me; fighting off the darkness.

"Why you sitting out here?" I ask her.

"It's quiet. Seven men can be kind of noisy."

"Yeah," I sigh. "We aren't what you'd call mild-mannered."

"Neither am I." She says. "This ranch, this house . . ." She sighs. "It is beautiful, Adam. It's more than I ever expected to . . ." She moves so she can catch my eye. "The last time I slept inside a house was before my Daddy left us, and that was a long, long time ago. We lived in trailers, apartments, slept in other people's spare rooms, but I never had a house."

"I've never lived anywhere but here." I tell her. "I was supposed to go to school, but . . .my plans got changed."

"I can see that." She reaches out with her soft fingers, and runs them along my cheek. "That must have been a pretty hard time." And I feel stupid because without any warning at all, my eyes fill with tears.

"Yeah." I say my voice choked up. "It kind of was."

She wipes the lone tear that has escaped away with her thumb, and kisses the wet spot it leaves behind.

"I bet someday, you'll tell me about it."

And I nod, finding words impossible, knowing that someday I will. I will spill all my secrets to her, and she'll know everything - everything I've locked away and kept hidden will come under the light of her loving gaze.

My father and mother loved each other. You could tell it. Their eyes were always searching for each other, and their faces changed when they came into view. They fought sometimes - my father was stubborn as a mule, but even then you could feel it - their love. When I was young, before they died - I longed for a love like that. But I found it pretty difficult to convince a twenty year old girl to give up everything and help me raise my six brothers. Ranch work is hard enough, but adding a pack of wounded, orphaned, wild boys into the mix, pretty much killed off any romance. So I gave it all up, and resigned myself to a life alone. Until her.

I could take every word that there is in the whole dictionary, and it wouldn't be enough to explain how much she means to me, already. We've been married for seventeen days, and I'm telling you, if she walked away from me right now, I would never, ever recover. Never.

"I was afraid you'd come out here, crying and thinking of running off." I say because I'm a bit of a coward.

"Nope." She says because she is stronger than steel, and knows I'm fishing for reassurance.

"You are crazy." I tell her. "You know that, right? Everyone's gonna say how crazy you are for sticking it out."

"Everyone is pretty stupid then." She says. "I meant what I said in that chapel, Adam. I'm hoping you did too."

"I did." I say seriously. "I do."

"I do, too." She says gently. I lean over and kiss her thinking again that I must be the luckiest man on the planet. She breaks away from me.

"Adam, I don't want you wondering every time, I take a walk or watch the moonrise. I understand why you didn't tell me. You explained it. I'm not going anywhere, leastways not without you. I'll do my best to help you. I hope they'll come to like me, although, I'm thinking that might be a long, hard road with Brian." She says to me.

"Brian's not big on change." I tell her.

"I picked up on that. You probably should've said something to them."

"Probably." I agree.

"You might want to take a minute and explain things to them - the way you did to me. It might help."

"Guthrie already loves you." I tell her.

"Oh! If you had wanted to trick me into marrying you, you should've introduced me to him right at the start! That boy is sweet, Adam!"

"He was my mother's last baby - she raised him with so much love." I tell her, and she laughs.

"You've been raising him these last ten years. You and your grumpy brother." My eyes widen, surprised. "I think you must be a very good parent, Adam. I hope I can do as good a job as you."

She's shocked me now. I never thought much about raising them. I mean I think about raising them all the time, every single day, but I never thought to sit back and look at it - see how I'm doing.

"You think I'm doing okay? You think I'm raising them well?" I ask her, hating how much I sound like a boy. I glance at her to see if she's laughing at me, but her eyes are filled with tears, which surprises me.

"Yeah." She says. "I think you are doing really well."

"Honey?" I start to ask her about the tears, but she shakes her head, and wipes them away.

"You're a good man." She says softly, her face close to mine. "That's all. I can't believe my luck."

"I can't believe _my_ luck." I tell her. We are so close that our foreheads are touching and I'm not really interested in talking anymore.

"Come on, Mrs. McFadden," I tell her, smiling even as I say it; it fills my heart with that much joy. "We'll worry about the raising of these boys some other time." I rise and stand on the step with my hand outstretched to her.

"Alright, Mr. McFadden." She grins at me, and puts her hand in mine, and together we walk up the steps and into the house, ready to face whatever comes our way together.


	10. Author's Note

_Author's Note:_

_If you've read my notes to this story and to Legacy, you are already aware that these stories came from my own family. I was hoping that our outcome would be as positive as Hannah's. I, of course, cured her cancer completely in my story, as a candle lit in hope._

_As of today, March 28th, 2013, our family got the best report EVER - No Cancer At All - No sign of it. Not one bit!_

_I am overwhelmed with joy._


End file.
